Valentine
by forensicsgirl
Summary: Love & Revenge: Story 3. GSR. Sequel to 'First Date or Second Thoughts'. It's almost Valentines Day, and Grissom & Sara's relationship is starting to blossom. Meanwhile, a killer is on the loose cutting out the hearts of couples...
1. Almost Perfect

**Title – **Valentine

**Author – **forensicsgirl

**Pairing – **Grissom/Sara

**Rating – **T (PG-13), with a warning for some strongly suggested violence throughout and bad language in chapter 11.

**Author's Note - **Valentine takes place less than a week after First Date or Second Thoughts, and is the third part of my Grissom & Sara series (the first of which was Cold Vengeance) All these fics take place in the early part of CSI series 5 - just after Down the Drain / Harvest.

**Disclaimer - **I don't own CSI or any of the characters from the hit TV show. Any characters you don't recognize from the show, I made up. Don't sue me Mr Bruckheimer sir, I'm flat broke...

**Author's Note Addendum – **Having re-read and re-edited the entire series, this is an updated and improved version of the story.

* * *

Chapter One – Almost Perfect

Moonlight reflected gently on the lake as soft strains from the jazz quartet on stage added to the romantic mood. Two empty plates, that had once held exquisitely cooked calamari and vegetable risotto respectively, were cleared by an unobtrusive waiter and coffee poured. Grissom had been true to his word. Everything had been perfect.

They had spent the evening chatting. Becoming reacquainted, Grissom called it. They had grown far apart in the past few years, each keeping the other at a distance in order to avoid getting hurt. Now they were re-establishing the comfortable relationship they once shared. When she first came to Las Vegas, they used to chat easily about many things; science, poetry, their own personal beliefs. They had engaged in semi-innocent flirtation and shared a mutual trust born out of mutual respect. Now, slowly but surely, they were getting back to that place once more. And Sara couldn't be happier.

Now they were reminiscing about their first meeting, many years before in Berkley, where Grissom had come to teach a seminar on crime scene investigation and the role entomology could play in solving crimes. Sara had never found bugs very interesting, until she heard him talk about them, that is. Grissom laughed at her admission.

'So, it wasn't the lecture you found fascinating?' he said, the mock-offence in his tone teasing her. 'And there I thought you loved to learn.'

'I do, Grissom,' she said with a smile. 'But your eyes distracted me that day.'

Grissom blushed, unused to the compliment. There were so many things he wasn't used to. Being on a date that was going so well was one of them. Usually he felt awkward, unsure of what to talk to his dates about. But with Sara, they already had so much in common. And now he was discovering even more. Science was not the only thing Ms Sidle found fascinating – she enjoyed many of the same literary works that he did: Henry James, Emerson and Shakespeare, although she didn't have an encyclopedic memory for it like she did for science. Amazingly, they hadn't resorted to talking about work once during the entire evening.

Grissom's eyes darted over his companion's appearance for what was probably the hundredth time that night. Sara was breath-taking in a satin, ivory-coloured halter-neck and dark blue pants suit. Her hair, which usually hung loose about her shoulders, was swept up to reveal her long, elegant neck.

He was building up the courage to tell her how beautiful she was, when the moment was spoiled by his cell phone. Its ringing had never sounded so harsh and unwelcome. He looked apologetically at Sara as he fished it out of his pocket.

'I'm really sorry.'

'Hey, it's not your fault,' Sara told him with a soft smile. 'Look on the bright side. We made it all the way to coffee. That's got to be some kind of record.'

He flipped the phone open, silencing its incessant ringing, and held it to his ear. 'Grissom.'

After he listened for a few seconds, Sara knew from his face that the evening was over. 'Where are they? Okay. Don't let anyone except David near the bodies. I'll be there as soon as I can.' With that, he hung up.

'Bodies?' Sara asked.

'Two bodies were found in the desert. They've been there a while. Apparently there's a lot of insect activity at the scene.'

'Well, you are the bug guy,' Sara said with a grin, getting to her feet.

Grissom had also risen, and was taking cash from his wallet to pay the bill. 'I wish people would stop calling me that,' he said good-naturedly, pretending to frown. 'Come on, I'll drop you at home before I go to the scene.'

'Do you want a hand?'

Grissom shook his head. 'No, Nick's meeting me there. You just enjoy the rest of your night off.'

They had reached the front door now, and Sara paused with a sudden idea. 'I can take a cab from here if you want to go straight to the scene. I don't mind.'

Grissom looked at her and smiled. 'This evening didn't go quite to plan. But at the very least, I'm going to see you home to your door.' He offered her his arm as they left the restaurant for the cool, night air.

'Ever the gentleman, Grissom,' she replied, taking his arm and smiling warmly at him.

* * *

Grissom arrived at the scene 30 minutes later, having dropped Sara off at her apartment. He smiled at the memory of the soft kiss she placed on his check as she thanked him for dinner and got out of the car. One of these days, he thought, I'm going to get through an entire date without interruption.

Getting out of his car, he made his way to Jim Brass and Nick Stokes, the latter of whom looked like he had just arrived at the scene.

'Well I'll be,' the younger CSI remarked. 'I never thought I'd see the day when I beat you to a scene, Grissom.'

'I was otherwise engaged, Nick,' Grissom told him. 'It _is_ my night off.'

'Sorry 'bout that Gil,' Brass told him. 'What? Did we interrupt you on a date or something?'

'Something like that,' Grissom answered cryptically, moving away from them and towards David, who was bending over two dead bodies several meters away. Bugs were rife, crawling over both the corpses.

'Any idea about time of death, David?' Grissom asked the coroner.

'Difficult to say,' the earnest man looked up and peered at Grissom through his glasses. 'A couple of days, at least. You'll need to do your thing with the bugs to get a more precise timeline.' With that he got up and stepped back from the bodies, allowing the entomologist a better look. 'They're all yours. I've done all I can here.'

'Cause of death?'

'Dr. Robbins will be able to tell you better after the autopsy, but they've both been shot. Point blank, back of the head,' David answered. 'But someone worked them over pretty well with a knife too.'

He pointed out the large wounds in both victims' chests, barely visible through all the blood. Grissom bent down for a better look and looked up at his colleagues with a mild expression that belied his true feelings of revulsion.

'_It is better to have a heart without words than words without a heart_,' he remarked. 'Unfortunately for our two victims, they appear to have lost theirs.'

Nick bent over to see what Grissom was seeing. 'Lost what?'

'Their hearts. Someone's cut them out.'

TBC.


	2. Multiples

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One

Chapter Two – Multiples

'Earth to Grissom,' Catherine's impatient voice said.

Grissom looked up to see Catherine standing in front of his desk. He hadn't heard her come in.

'Hi, Catherine,' he said. 'Did you say something?'

'Uh, yeah. I said are you coming to the briefing, or would you like me to hand out the assignments for you?'

'Still after my job?' he said with a smile.

'Well, someone needs to do it.'

Grissom gathered up the paperwork on his desk. 'I'll be right there.'

But Catherine didn't leave. 'So. Who is she?'

Getting to his feet, Grissom frowned in confusion. 'Who's who?'

'Well, you're sitting there with a dopey look on your face, which I haven't seen since… wait, is Terri Miller in town?'

'What?' Grissom asked, still confused. 'What are you talking about?'

'Well, Nick mentioned something about you having a date last night, and between that and that look on your face, I put two and two together…'

'And got five,' Grissom remarked. 'Terri's married, Catherine.'

'Okay, if not her, then who?'

'Does there have to be someone?'

'What? You went on a date _alone_ last night,' Catherine said with a hint of sarcasm. 'Fine, play it your way. But I will be viewing every blonde I see with suspicion until I narrow it down.'

Walking past her into the corridor, Grissom rolled his eyes. 'Why blondes? Surely you don't think I'm so shallow as to have a _type_?'

'Ah, yeah… of course. There _was _Lady Heather…'

'You swore never to mention that, Cath,' he frowned at her.

'Sorry. It slipped out,' Catherine grinned.

They turned into the break room, where Warrick and Nick were arguing good-naturedly about a basketball game they'd been to see, Greg was onto his second cup of coffee and Sara was tucking into a yogurt. As the sight of her, Grissom flashed the hint of a smile, which she covertly returned.

'Let's get to work,' Grissom called them to order. 'Just the one case so far. The double murder in the desert. Here's what we know so far. Victims' names are Clive Johnson and Mary Gibson. Last seen four days ago, at 8pm when Clive picked Mary up from her parents house for a date. When they weren't back by the next morning, Mary's parents called the police. We haven't finalised the timeline, but from what the Doc and I can figure, they probably died the night they were last seen. When the bugs are done maturing, we'll have a more accurate timeline.'

Nick took up the story. 'From what Brass can gather from the parents, Clive and Mary were on a double date that night. With a Missy Emerson and a Daniel Clifford. He's tracking them down so we can talk to them. According to Mary's parents these were their best friends.'

'No history of any animosity?' Sara asked. 'Maybe they had a fight?'

'Anything's possible at this stage,' Grissom replied. 'But the MO is more like a signature than revenge for a falling out. Both victims were shot in the head and then their hearts were removed.'

'Just in time for Valentine's day,' Greg remarked. At Grissom's sharp look, Greg looked abashed. 'Sorry.'

'No, don't be,' Grissom told him. 'That hadn't actually occurred to me. We can't rule out the possibility that removing the hearts has some kind of ritual or seasonal significance to the killer.'

'Cupid in reverse,' Catherine remarked dryly.

'Nick, Warrick. Brass called a little while ago to say that the couple's car had been found a few miles from the crime scene. Can you guys head out their now and take a look, then have it towed back to the garage?'

'No problem,' Warrick replied.

Before Grissom could finish handing out jobs for the others, Brass walked in.

'Hey, sorry to break up the party,' the New Jersey cop said, 'but we got us another double homicide in the desert.'

* * *

Catherine and Sara got out of their Tahoe, eagerly followed by Greg, whom Grissom felt need the experience of this kind of crime scene. But despite having spent his career analysing blood, he wasn't quite prepared for the sheer volume of it present at this particular scene. It stained the sand red for several meters around the bodies. He could feel the emotion of the scene. It wasn't rage. It was worse than that.

Sara immediately began taking photographs, wide shots of the scene, before moving in for close ups. Catherine went to talk to David, who was pulling off his gloves, having finished his examination of the bodies.

'What can you tell me, David?' she asked the coroner.

'Haley Michaels and Jason Clements. Based on temperature and lividity, they've been here no more than six hours,' he replied. 'Similar injuries to the first couple. Gun shot wound to the back of the head. Incised wounds to the chest. Hearts appear to be missing. But the girl's injuries are different. Even more violent.'

'More violent than having your heart ripped out?' Catherine said.

'She has multiple defensive wounds. Hands, arms and upped body have multiple incised wounds from a knife. She put up a fight. The killer may have cut into one or more arteries, which would account for all the blood.'

'Thanks, David.'

'No problem. They're all yours.'

Now that David had released the bodies, Catherine moved in to begin her own examination. Starting with Haley. She could barely see the girl's skin under all the blood. Cuts on her hands went right to the bone. 'This girl fought to the death,' she commented.

Sara was examining the boyfriend, Jason. 'He doesn't have a mark on him, apart from the chest wound and the bullet wound. What do you think, Greg?' she asked, looking up at the new CSI.

Greg considered for a moment. 'He didn't put up a fight. He was being as meek as a lamb 'because the killer had his girlfriend. Killer shot the boyfriend first.'

Sara nodded. 'Makes sense. The boyfriend's a big guy. The killer would have wanted to get him out of the way first. He seemed to be the biggest threat.'

'But the killer didn't count on Haley being a wild cat,' Catherine remarked.

'She sees her boyfriend murdered, knows what's next,' Greg continued. 'Now, she's got nothing to lose. She fights back. Killer defends himself, cutting her until she can't fight anymore.'

'Makes you wonder if all that blood is just Haley's,' Sara speculated.

Catherine was taking a closer look at Haley's right hand. 'Well, I don't know about the blood yet,' she said. 'But the killer left something behind. Our girl was a scratcher.' She carefully scraped the flesh from underneath the girl's fingernails into a bindle.

'Hello DNA,' Greg remarked. Frowning, he bent down to take a closer look at the male victim's jacket. Using tweezers, he plucked a dark hair off the clothing. 'Our vic's blonde,' he said.

'Yeah,' Sara answered, still examining the chest wound. 'You find something?'

'Short dark hair,' Greg declared. 'Complete with skin tag. DNA times two.'

* * *

Grissom was bent over his calculations when Sara found him. Standing at the door quietly she watched the pure glee on his face. Obviously he liked the way his experiment turned out. He double checked the pin-board of maggots, and made a final note on the clipboard in front of him, before taking his glasses with a look of self-satisfaction.

'I was waiting for you to yell _Eureka!_' Sara teased him.

Jumping slightly, he turned and smiled at her. 'We've got our timeline. Time of death, approximately 94 to 96 hours ago.'

'So that's four days ago, between midnight and 2am, Thursday morning,' Sara calculated in a flash. 'They were last seen at 8pm Wednesday night. Then, four to six hours later, someone brings them to the desert and kills them. The couple they were on a double date with?'

'Brass is bringing them in for questioning now,' Grissom told her. 'Want to have a chat with them?'

'Don't mind if I do,' Sara replied with a smile.

Grissom began gathering up his notes from the desk. 'So, have you forgiven me yet?' he asked her in a low voice.

Sara matched his conspiratorial tone with one of her own. 'What for?'

'For cutting our evening short last night.'

'Nothing to forgive, Gris,' Sara said. 'It's the job. We don't have any control over when people are murdered. Anyway, I _know_ you'll make it up to me on our second date,' she added with a grin.

'Second date, huh?' Grissom smirked.

'Well, I figured we'd better do something about that batting average you were complaining about last week,' she replied.

Smiling, he was about to reply when someone cleared his throat behind them. They turned, startled, to see Ecklie standing at the door.

'Can I have a word, Grissom,' he asked.

Grissom and Sara exchanged a fleeting glance. _How much had he heard?_ Sara moved to the door.

'I'll, uh… see you at the interview, Grissom,' she said to him over her shoulder.

'Yeah, tell Brass I'll be there soon,' Grissom replied before giving Ecklie his full attention. 'Conrad, it's 1 am. What brings you to the lab this late?'

'Your latest crime scene. Are you aware of _who_ one of the victims is?'

'Haley Michaels and Jason Clements, right?'

'Haley Michaels. As in Scott Michaels. Entrepreneur, businessman. _Very_ close friend of the Mayor,' Ecklie told him, frustrated as ever by Grissom's lack of political savvy.

'Ah. Major contributor,' Grissom caught up fast.

'Exactly,' Ecklie replied. 'So, what are you doing to expedite the case?'

'The same thing I always do, Conrad. I'm following the evidence. Now if you don't mind, I have an interview to attend.' With that, Grissom walked by him and into the hallway.

'The Mayor's going to be looking for results on this one, Grissom,' Ecklie called after him.

Grissom walked on, playing deaf.

TBC.


	3. Evidence

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

Chapter Three - Evidence

Grissom found Sara in the observation room, watching Brass interview the couple through one-way glass. He raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged.

'Hey, _he_ wanted to go ahead without you,' she said. 'Don't blame me.'

'Anything yet?' he asked, taking up position at her side and looking through the glass at the couple, who he guessed were in their late teens, early twenties.

'Not really,' Sara told him. 'They met up with Clive and Mary at around 8pm, Wednesday night. Went to a movie together. Grabbed something to eat. They say they parted company sometime around 11.30.'

'Where?'

'A fast food joint, just off the Strip.'

'So that's what? A thirty minutes drive from where we found their bodies?'

'Give or take,' Sara replied, glancing at him. 'And time of death is between midnight and 2am.'

'Do they have an alibi for those two hours?'

'Say they were at home in their respective beds, and that their parents can confirm that. We'll see.'

They stood in silence for a moment, watching Brass finish up the interview. Grissom thought Missy and Daniel seemed honestly upset by their friends' deaths. When he thought of the emotion of the crime, they didn't seem to fit. But he knew that people could lie. The evidence didn't. And if the evidence led back to this couple, he'd look hard at them.

After a few moments' silence, Sara cleared her throat. 'So, uh… did Ecklie say anything?'

'What about?' Grissom asked, still watching the interview.

'About anything he might have overheard?'

'Oh. No,' Grissom looked at Sara and saw the deep relief on her face. 'No, he wanted to talk about one of the latest victims. Seems she's the daughter of a friend of the Mayor's.'

'Uh oh,' Sara said. 'Politics. Your favourite.'

Grissom made a sour face and turned his attention back to the interview.

* * *

Catherine found Nick and Warrick in the CSI garage, going over the first couple's car with a fine-toothed comb.

'Anything yet?' she asked them.

'Found a partial on the driver's door. Doesn't appear to be either of the victim's. Jackie's working on it now,' Warrick told the strawberry blonde.

'So far, all I got is a couple of ticket stubs from the multiplex down off the strip and used condom,' Nick told her.

'Used?'

'Yep. Sex in the back seat. Guess they're not using the back row of the movie theatre anymore.'

'Guess not,' Catherine replied. 'DNA?'

'Gave it to Mia a little while ago. She said she'd let me know when she had something. She was still working on the hair and skin from your scene.'

'So what do you think, Cath?' Warrick asked her. 'Same perp?'

'If it's not, then there are two unrelated sick people out there,' Catherine replied with a shake of her head. 'Cutting out hearts is not exactly common place.'

'What about Greggo's theory that it's to do with Valentine's Day coming up?' Nick asked.

'I don't know Nicky,' Catherine shrugged. 'Nothing would surprise me anymore.'

* * *

Greg caught up with Grissom and Sara as they returned to the lab.

'Hey Sara! Grissom. Mia just handed me the DNA results on the skin and hair samples we found at the second scene.'

'That was fast,' Sara remarked. 'So, did they match the first case?'

'They hair from this case matches the hair Grissom and Nick found at the first scene,' Greg confirmed.

'So, we got our confirmation,' Sara said. 'We're looking for a serial killer.'

'That's not all,' Greg told them. 'The skin sample _didn't_ match the hairs.'

'So, whose is it?' Grissom asked.

'No match to either victim. But it's XX. And the hairs are XY.'

'Our killers are a man _and_ a woman?' Sara asked.

'We're not just looking for a serial,' Grissom remarked. 'We're looking for Bonnie and Clyde.'

TCB.


	4. Breakfast

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

Chapter Four - Breakfast

Warrick let out a lion-roar of a yawn, stretching his long body to get rid of the kink in his back. It had been a _long_ shift. Thankfully, it was now almost at an end. All there was left to do now was to head over to fingerprints and check in with Jackie.

'Hey,' he greeted the fingerprints expert sleepily. 'What you got for me?'

'A load of nothing, I'm afraid. Print doesn't match the two victims or their friends.'

'Killer's print?' Warrick wanted to know.

'Maybe. But AFIS kicked nothing out. Sorry Warrick,' she replied. 'If this is your perp, he's not in the system.'

'Damn,' Warrick exclaimed. 'Grissom know yet?'

'I just finished running it. You want to do the honours?'

Warrick shrugged in reply and headed out, with a 'thanks anyway,' over his shoulder. For a brief moment, he had allowed himself to believe that this was going to be an easy one. So much for his wishful thinking…

* * *

Sara tapped on the frame of Grissom's open door, and he greeted her with a soft smile.

'Shift over?' he asked.

'Yeah. I'm heading out. Wanted to say goodnight. Or good morning, really…' she replied, smiling back at him.

Grissom inclined his head, gesturing for her to come closer. She walked to the edge of his desk, stealing a glance behind her to make sure no one was around.

'Would you like to have breakfast?' he asked in a sotto voice.

'Sure. I always have breakfast in the mornings,' she replied, teasing him.

He flashed her one of his faux frowns, good-naturedly berating her for making fun of him. 'I meant with me,' he said with a sigh.

'I know,' she said. 'And yes.'

'I'll see you outside in a minute then,' he told her. She smiled in reply and turned to see Warrick standing in the doorway.

'Hey, Sara,' Warrick greeted her. 'You off?'

'Yeah,' she replied, wondering how much, if anything, he had heard. _This is becoming a theme_, she thought.

'Want to get some breakfast? I'm buying,' the handsome CSI offered with a smile.

Sara almost glanced back at Grissom, but stopped herself just in time. 'Um, another time, 'Rick. I'm kinda tired. But, thanks.'

'Another time. I'll hold you to that,' Warrick replied.

'Did you come to see me or Sara, Warrick?' Grissom asked, his voice a strange mixture of amusement and annoyance.

'You, boss.'

'Bye, you guys,' Sara said, heading out the door. 'See you tonight.'

'Bye, Sara,' Grissom replied, before turning to Warrick. 'Well?'

'Nothing on the print, Gris,' Warrick told his boss. 'Whoever left it isn't on the system.'

'And it doesn't match our victims?'

'No match to them or their friends,' Warrick said, shaking his head. 'So it might be our killer.'

'Maybe,' Grissom replied. 'Or it could be someone at a car wash, or a bag boy at the supermarket… anyone who might have had a legitimate reason for touching that car.'

'It has to have been someone who touched the car recently though,' Warrick insisted. 'In a dry climate like Vegas, prints don't last long outside.'

Grissom suppressed a retort, but couldn't stop a wry smirk appearing on his face. If memory served (and it usually did), he was the one who had told Warrick that, his first year as a CSI. 'Anything else?' he asked instead.

'That's all for now. DNA is still running the condom Nick found.'

'Good. Well, shift's over. Go home and get some rest.'

'Yes sir,' Warrick said with a smirk. 'You too.'

* * *

'Grissom? When you asked me for breakfast, I assumed we'd be going to the Pancake Palace or Waffle World…'

'Now, Ms Sidel, what have I repeatedly told you about assuming things?'

'It makes an ass out of you and me…' Sara repeated, with the mock-resignation of a pupil repeating her teacher's teachings by rote. 'Still, I didn't expect you to cook.'

Grissom was at that moment cooking what smelled like a killer Spanish omelette. 'What? You didn't know I could cook?' he asked. 'I happen to be a man of many talents.'

Sara grinned and bit back a saucy retort. She'd save it for later in the relationship. That word stopped her thoughts dead in their tracks. Relationship. She was contemplating an actual _relationship _with Gil Grissom. The thought sent shivers of anticipation up and down her spine.

As they sat down at the table, she broached the subject that had been plaguing both of their minds. 'So, that was twice in one day we were almost overheard at work…'

'You're assuming that Warrick didn't hear us,' Grissom remarked, inclining his fork towards her while making his point.

'Well, _assuming_ he didn't, just for the moment…' she began then stopped. She wasn't sure if she was ready to have this discussion with him yet. After all, they'd technically only been on one date.

Luckily, Grissom saved her the trouble. 'You're worried because you believe that _eventually_, people at work will find out about us,' he said.

'Isn't it a little early to be calling us an 'us'?' she asked with a smile.

'Are you complaining or merely enquiring?' Grissom raised an eyebrow.

'Hey, no complaints here. I was just wondering where you were.'

Grissom took a moment to ponder that, chewing his omelette slowly and methodically. Eventually his eyes met hers, and she was surprised to see very little fear or uncertainty in them.

'I think that 'this' has been upgraded to an 'us', or at least a potential 'us', don't you?'

Sara didn't reply, waiting to hear what else Grissom was planning to say; butterflies dancing violently round her stomach.

'I think that, given that it's still early days, it might be an idea to avoid the people at work finding out about the… changed nature of our relationship,' he suggested. 'What do you think?'

'I think that, as we're both the very definition of the word 'private', I wholeheartedly agree,' Sara replied, adopting his almost formal sentence construction with amusement. She grinned at him. 'It also might be kind of fun.'

'Oh, there _will_ be fun, Sara,' he replied. 'That's something that both our lives have been seriously lacking for a while. And I intend to change that.'

They dropped the subject of work abruptly, and turned to other things: a movie that Sara was interested in seeing, a restaurant Grissom had been keen to try and now planned on taking her to. Soon breakfast was over and Sara found herself getting tired. Grissom noticed.

'You should go home and get some rest,' he told her, a hint of regret in his tone that suggested he didn't want their morning together to end.

Stifling a yawn, Sara nodded. 'I guess I'd better.'

He walked her to the door and they stood for a moment, a degree of uncertainty descending on them. It had been almost two weeks since their first, and so far only, kiss. Sara was more than ready for a second one, but had decided to leave that ball firmly in Grissom's court.

She gave him a soft smile and reached for the door handle. 'See you tonight,' she said, turning to leave.

'Sara,' he breathed, placing his hand on her shoulder.

'Mmm?' she replied, her pulse picking up speed at his touch.

'Does this count as our second date?'

She thought for a moment. 'I guess it does,' she replied softly.

'In that case, I'd like it to end how the first one never got a chance to,' he said, turning her to face him. He placed a tentative hand on her cheek and tilted her face up towards him.

'You were planning to kiss me on the first date?' Sara teased.

'Most definitely,' he replied, as he lowered his lips onto hers.

TBC.


	5. Leads

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

Chapter Five – Leads

'What do you mean you don't have any suspects!' a very angry father, Scott Michaels grilled Brass and Catherine. 'How can you not have a suspect!'

Brass held up his hands, attempting to placate the man. 'Mr Michaels, we don't have a suspect _right now_. Believe me, that all could change. You just need to let us do our jobs.'

All of the man's anger was suddenly replaced with terrible grief, and he sunk down onto a chair and began to weep. 'Haley… Haley,' he sobbed.

Catherine sat down near him. 'Mr Michaels, I'm so sorry for your loss. Can you think of anyone who would have wanted to harm Haley?'

For a moment, the grieving father was unable to speak. Finally, his eyes met Catherine's. 'She shouldn't have even been out of the house. I told her to stop seeing Jason. Didn't want her around him, after his psycho ex-girlfriend threatened her.'

Catherine and Brass shared a look. Finally, a lead. 'Do you know this ex-girlfriend's name?' Brass asked him.

'Stacey… something,' Mr Michaels thought for a moment. 'Stacey… Marks, maybe?'

'When did she threaten Haley?' Catherine asked him. 'Can you tell us what exactly happened?'

Michaels was beginning to get himself back under control. Looking almost embarrassed to have been crying, he impatiently wiped the tears from his face.

'Haley came home about a week ago… last Wednesday, I think. I could tell she'd been crying, was really upset. I asked her what was wrong and she said that she'd been on a date with Jason and they'd run into Stacey. The little bitch had really tore into Haley, hit her, pulled at her hair. Said that Jason was hers and she'd put Haley in hospital before she'd let her date him.'

'Did you report this to the police?' Brass wanted to know.

Michaels shook his head. 'I didn't… I didn't think it was that big a deal. Girls fight over guys all the time.' Catherine could see he was getting upset again. 'I didn't think… I didn't like Jason anyway, so I told Haley to stop seeing him. I thought that would be the end of it.' Tears began to roll down his face once more. 'This is my fault, isn't it? If I had called the police last week…'

Catherine shook her head. 'There was no way you could have know this would happen, Mr Michaels,' she told him gently. 'And we don't know that this girl Stacey had anything to do with your daughter's death.'

'But we will check her out,' Brass assured him. 'Just in case.'

* * *

'What have we got?' Grissom asked as he strode into the break room, cutting the chatter and bringing the briefing to order.

'Possible suspect,' Catherine told him. 'Brass and I interviewed Haley Michaels' father a few hours ago. Apparently, boyfriend Jason's ex threatened Haley last week. Brass is running down the name, but no luck as yet.'

'How's the evidence coming?' Grissom asked.

'DNA's back on the condom,' Nick informed the group. 'Clive's DNA on the inside, Mary's on the outside.'

'The victims. No surprise there,' Catherine remarked. 'What about the fingerprint you got off the car door?' she asked Warrick.

'Spoke to Jackie at the end of last shift,' Warrick replied. 'No match to the vics. So far, it's an unknown. Maybe our perp.'

'So we've got nothing?' Sara summed up, frustrated.

'We've got evidence to tie to a suspect, when we develop one,' Grissom corrected her. 'And we've got a distinctive M.O.'

'So, what are we thinking? Are the hearts part of some weird ritual, or is he cutting them out as a Valentine's gift to his honey?' Warrick pondered.

'Man! Whatever happened to flowers and candy?' Nick said with disgust.

'_Diamonds_, Nicky,' Catherine admonished the young CSI. 'A woman likes diamonds for Valentine's.'

Sara made a noise of disgust.

'What? You don't like diamonds or you're not a fan of the holiday?' Catherine asked with a smirk.

'It's not a holiday. It's an excuse for card manufactures to make money in the slow season between Christmas and Easter,' Sara announced. 'It's a meaningless, capitalist farce.'

'Cynic,' Nick said under his breath.

'Hey, I like romance as much as the next woman,' Sara told him. 'But Valentine's is a crock.'

She suddenly became very aware of Grissom's gaze on her. Trying not to look up and meet his eyes, she felt her face flush. Inwardly she winced. She always did that – make a big deal out of something stupid – say something, simply for the sake of saying it, and ending up with it sounding like a major belief system.

Warrick had been watching this exchange with amusement, and saw Sara start to blush. He let her suffer for a moment before helping her out.

'Okay, so… what else we got? Because DNA and fingerprints are coming up empty. Do we know who was last with the second couple?'

Catherine answered him. 'Scott Michaels didn't even know his daughter had left the house. He banned her from dating Jason last week, after the incident with the ex-girlfriend. And her friends say they hadn't seen her since school let out at 3.30.'

'What about the boyfriend?' Grissom asked. 'No one missed him?'

'He lives alone,' Catherine told him. 'No one _to_ miss him, from what we can tell. Brass is looking into it.'

'What about their car?' Nick asked. 'It hasn't turned up yet?'

'Not yet,' Catherine answered. 'Brass has an APB out on it. Hopefully it's only a matter of time…' She was interrupted by her pager. 'Speak of the devil,' she remarked as she plucked the device off her belt and looked at it. 'Brass has located the ex-girlfriend. I'm going to go talk to her. Catch you guys later,' she said as she left the room.

'Okay, in case Catherine's lead doesn't pan out, Sara, I'd like you to follow the M.O,' Grissom said, looking at the brunette. 'A person just doesn't wake up one morning and start cutting out hearts. They develop a taste for it. Go on the FBI database, look for anything similar. Don't limit yourself to just the hearts. Any murders where the victims were mutilated. Couples killings. Any murders where two killers were thought to have been involved. Let's try and work out the pattern.'

'On it,' she told him, uncurling herself from the chair and heading out of the room.

'According to the two friends, Clive and Mary drove off in their car at around 11.30pm, from a fast food place just off the strip.' Grissom glanced at his notes. 'Denny's. Warrick, take Greg and get your hands on the surveillance footage for the restaurant's parking lot and see if anyone might have followed our first couple.'

'That part of the strip has a bunch of cameras on the street too,' Warrick told him. 'I'll see if I can lay my hands on that footage too.'

With that, he and Greg left the room.

'Nicky, until the second couple's car turns up, I want you sifting through missing persons,' Grissom told the remaining CSI. 'We didn't find the first couple for four days. I hate to think it, but there may be more out there, waiting to be found.'

* * *

The sullen girl sitting opposite Catherine couldn't have been more than 17. She sat with her arms and legs crossed, completely defensive, and refusing to look either Brass or Catherine in the eye. After twenty minutes of interviewing the uncooperative teenager, Catherine had just about enough.

'Two people, that you know, were found murdered last night,' she said bluntly. 'You don't seem very broken up about it.'

'I loved Jason,' Stacey told her. 'Everyone deals with grief in their own way.'

'Right,' Brass replied, with a tone that made it crystal clear he didn't believe the girl for a moment. 'And yours is to sit there and chew gum without so much as a tear. Yeah, you really seem broken up about it.'

'I am broken up,' Stacey said, looking angrily at him. 'You don't know how I feel.'

'What about Haley?' he asked her. 'You broken up about _her_ death, too?'

'I don't give a shit about her,' Stacey replied. 'That rich bitch stole my boyfriend.'

'Really? From what I hear, he broke up with you,' Brass told her. 'What's the matter, Stacey? Not used to getting dumped? Maybe wanted a little revenge on the new girlfriend?'

Stacey didn't reply.

'So you decide, hey, he dumped me. Why not kill them both?' Brass continued. 'Was it a '_if I can't have him, no one will_' kind of deal?'

Stacey suddenly looked scared. 'You're not pinning this on me! I didn't kill them!'

'You threatened Haley last week,' Catherine said. 'You attacked her.'

'Yeah. So? Doesn't mean I killed her,' Stacey replied. 'I'd never hurt Jason. I love him.'

'Where were you last night?' Brass asked.

'In my room.'

'Can your mom or anyone else verify that?'

'She works nights.'

Catherine opened up her field kit and took out a sterile swab. 'Stacey, I'd like you to give us a DNA sample and your fingerprints.'

The girl looked fearfully at Catherine. 'Don't you guys' need, like, a warrant or something.'

'We can get one, if you'd prefer,' Catherine replied. 'But if you're telling the truth and you really had nothing to do with Haley and Jason's murders, then giving us this sample will rule you out as a suspect.'

Stacey thought about that for a moment. Finally, she nodded. 'Okay. Whatever.'

'Smart choice,' Catherine told her.

* * *

Nick had only begun checking missing person's records when he found something. Limiting his search to the past week, he had already found one couple who had gone missing. Jessica Reynolds and Mark Lewis had disappeared two days after Clive and Mary, the first couple. Nick silently prayed that they had simply run off together, and were not lying dead, somewhere in the desert, waiting to be found. Printing off the record, he continued combing the database.

On a hunch, he widened the search to state-wide, to couples who had gone missing in the past five years. There were surprisingly few cases that were still active. Three in total, which he printed off. One case caught his eye. A 16 year old girl and her 17 year old boyfriend, who had disappeared together a year and a half ago. The guy had turned up, after almost 6 months, saying that he had broken up with the girl after she started acting 'weird' and 'violent'. She had run off when he tried to get her to go home. Her whereabouts were still unknown.

_Definitely worth checking out_, Nick thought to himself.

* * *

Warrick almost missed the car. He and Greg had been going through footage for a few hours at that point. The amount of footage was simply huge. Even with an approximate time, there were so many cameras recording that particular part of the strip, it was still a big job. In the end, it was Greg who spotted the victims car.

'Whoa, Warrick man,' the new CSI said. 'Wasn't that it?'

Warrick ran the tape back and paused it at the moment Greg indicated. 'Good call, Greg,' he told him.

The two victims, Clive and Mary, were in their car, apparently saying goodbye to their friends. A moment later, the car drove off.

'Wait a minute…' Warrick muttered, running the tape back again. A moment after the car pulled away from the curb, another car drove through the frame. 'I recognise that car…'

He dug through the other tapes, putting one on after another, looking for the right moment in the tapes. Ten minutes later, he found it.

Thirty seconds before Clive and Mary drove away from their friends, another car, the one that had followed them, was parked around the side of the restaurant. A figure, probably male, was sitting in it. Another figure, female this time, ran towards the car and jumped in. A few seconds later, they had driven out of frame.

'She was coming from the direction of the restaurant,' Greg observed. 'Keeping lookout?'

'Then she sees our victims leaving, runs to her car, and they start tailing them,' Warrick continued. He was jiggling the digital enhancement controls. 'Damn it. I can only get a partial plate number.' He jotted it down and handed the paper to Greg. 'Run this and see what we get. I'm going to see if I can get a better image of our two suspects.'

* * *

If never ceased to amaze Sara the level of violence one human being was prepared to inflict on another. Even with everything she had already seen in her career, there were constantly new mutations of evil springing up, each more ugly and disturbing than the last.

Such horrors she was discovering as she went through FBI records, looking for anything that might match this particular M.O. Always professional, nothing she read in the case files upset her physically. She read them with the cool detachment that her job required. But in the private enclosures of her mind, which she seldom shared with anyone, she despaired for the human race once more.

Printing off anything that sent up a red flag, she already had a few interesting leads to follow when she spotted something that got her attention. Six months ago, a teenage couple were kidnapped by two people 'a man and a young woman' who may have been 'in her late teens'. They were held, at knife and gun-point, for around 6 hours, while the couple terrorised them, describing how they planned to kill them. The victims were asked repeatedly if they were 'truly in love'. Eventually they were dumped out in the middle of the desert after the female kidnapper became 'bored'.

As the report printed, Sara stretched, and found her mind wandering towards more pleasant thoughts. As many times as she thought about her blossoming relationship with Grissom, she still didn't quite believe that it was happening. Unconsciously, she touched her fingers to her lips, thinking of how his lips had felt when he kissed her that morning. She wondered where he had learned to kiss like that. His kisses were passionate yet gentle, sensuous and so full of promise. She felt a tingle up her spine at the prospect, wondering when he would decide to take the next step. After being the one doing all the chasing for four years, Sara was now more than content to sit back and let Grissom do the work. For now…

_Focus, Sara_. She gave herself a mental shake. She had work to do. Just as she was settling down to continue searching, another tingle up her spine alerted her to the fact that the object of her distraction had entered the lab behind her. Without turning round, she continued to type, but a smile had crept onto her face. When he walked up and stood close beside her, so close she could smell his clean, unperfumed scent, her grin widened.

'Hey,' she greeted him.

'Hey,' he replied, a gentle smile in his voice. 'Found anything?'

'Yeah. A few cases caught my eye. This one in particular.' She handed him her most recent printout.

Grissom spent a moment reading the report. He was as intrigued as Sara. 'The boyfriend's still local,' Grissom remarked. Sara looked at him and knew what he was thinking. Stepping back and gesturing to the door, he smiled at her. 'Shall we…?'

TBC.


	6. Connections

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

Chapter Six - Connections

'Catherine. Have you seen Grissom?' Nick called out to the strawberry blonde CSI as she and Brass rounded the corner towards the DNA lab.

'Just got back from an interview, Nick,' she replied with a shake of her head. 'Why? You got something?'

The Texan handed her the printouts he'd been carrying. She read them and then handed them to Brass as Nick explained. 'Grissom had me going over missing persons. I found two cases that got me interested. A teenage couple went missing two days after Clive and Mary.'

'I hope that's just a coincidence,' Catherine replied, not believing the likelihood of that for one second.

'I'll put a call out,' Brass said. 'But, if it's not a coincidence, then we're probably already too late.'

'The second case is another missing person's case from over a year ago. Couple went missing together, and then the boyfriend turned up with an interesting tale about his girlfriend's violent proclivities. She's still missing.'

'He could be coving up for something he did to her…' Catherine speculated.

'Maybe…' Nick replied. 'Or maybe she found herself a guy more suited to her tastes. Either way, we should probably check it out.'

'Come on,' Brass told him. 'I'll put that other call out from the car.'

'You coming, Cath?'

'You go ahead. I have my own lead to check out,' she replied, gesturing to the samples in her hand.

* * *

George Matthews appeared to the outside world a capable, confident young man of 19. But when Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle showed up at his door that night, he turned into a wreck.

'It's Cathy. Isn't it?' he asked them as soon as they had identified themselves, his hands shaking, fear flashing in his eyes. 'They went after her again…'

Grissom and Sara shared a look of confusion, before attempting to set his mind at ease. 'Sir, we're just here to talk to you about the incident you were involved in six months ago,' Sara told him. 'You and your girlfriend were kidnapped?'

His fear changed to confusion. 'The police already interviewed me… and Cathy…' he looked from Sara to Grissom and back again. 'Did you find the psychos who did it? Is that why you're here?'

'We haven't found them,' Grissom replied. 'But we think they might be involved in several recent murders. We were hoping you could tell us as much as you can remember about them.'

'Murders? Oh god…'

* * *

'Lana was wild. You know?'

Simon Anders was a clean cut 18-year-old, but according to him, he hadn't always been that way. 'I was going through… a rebellious phase back then. Lana and me… we thought we were Clarence and Alabama.'

Brass made a noise of confusion.

'_True Romance_,' Nick told him. Brass still looked lost. 'It's a movie.'

Shrugging, Brass looked back at Simon. 'So, you and Lana took off.'

'Yeah. We had that whole 'our parents don't understand us' vibe going on. So we took off, went as far as we could on the money we had, then I got some work in a diner. But Lana got bored, started doing drugs…'

'You didn't join her?' Brass wanted to know.

'Me?' Simon looked at Brass and shrugged. 'Look… you know the score. A little bit of weed, everyone does it. But the stuff she was taking – uppers, downers, speed, LSD… When she started onto heroin, I was outta there. _Not_ my scene.'

'That the only reason you left?' Nick asked him. 'Police report at the time mentioned something about Lana's behaviour.'

'The chick was getting weird, man,' Simon replied. 'Like, full on weird. Picking fights in the diner I was working at. Mostly with couples. Or teenaged girls who came in to eat – said they were flirting with me… Nearly got me fired. Then she came home one night with a knife…'

'A knife?' Brass cut in. 'What kind?'

'A big old hunting knife,' Simon told him with a shudder. 'She got high and started telling me how she was planning to use it… That's the night I left. Psycho bitch started talking about killing people.'

* * *

'Cathy left for college a month after it happened,' George was telling them. 'She had planned on going to Western LVU, but…' He shook his head. 'She said she couldn't stay after… what happened.'

'What did happen?' Sara asked him. 'How did they get you in their car?'

'We… uh, we were parked. Out in the desert… And we were… you know… Fooling around,' George blushed a little. 'Next thing we knew, some guy had a gun in my face and Cathy had a knife at her throat… They made us get out and get into their car. The girl sat in the back with Cathy – said if I didn't behave she'd cut her head off…'

His voice had begun to choke up. Sara leaned forward supportively. 'It's okay. Take your time,' she told him.

After a short pause, George continued. 'They drove us out to the middle of nowhere. The girl was terrorising Cathy with that knife, threatening her the while time. Saying crazy things…'

'What kind of crazy things?' Grissom wanted to know.

'She kept saying, 'Are you guys in love? True love?' And she asked… she asked if she should cut us open… see what our hearts said.'

Grissom and Sara shared another look. 'What about the guy?' Sara asked. 'Did he say anything?'

George shook his head. 'He didn't say much. I told… I begged the girl not to hurt Cathy. Told her to leave her alone… Her boyfriend… he didn't like that, so he punched me. Broke my nose. But he didn't really say much. The girl was running the show.'

'Did you ever get their names?' Grissom asked. 'Or could you describe their faces?'

'She was pretty… but in a hard way. Bleached hair… Not much taller than Cathy. So, about 5'6'', maybe? He was tall – around 6 foot, 6'2'' maybe… dark hair... I didn't hear his name. But he called her Alabama.'

* * *

Catherine came out of DNA, disappointed. Her suspect was a dead end – it wasn't Stacey Marks' DNA or fingerprints at either one of their scenes. She was back to square one.

Turning into the break room, she heard Warrick called her name. He and Greg followed her in.

'Please, tell me you got something,' she asked as she poured herself a much needed cup of coffee.

'Oh, we got something alright. Greg here found our suspect's car - following Clive and Mary the night they were murdered – and matched the licence plate number to a Lana Tyler.'

'Lana Tyler?' Nick asked as he walked into the break room, taking off his jacket. 'You sure on the name?'

'Yeah,' Greg replied. 'We checked to see if she had a record and she came up as a missing person.'

'Well, Brass and me just talked to her ex-boyfriend, and she's got a history of drug-use, violent behaviour… Not to mention the big hunting knife she got her hands on the night he walked out on.'

'A hunting knife?' Catherine said, taking a seat. 'Like the kind that cut out the hearts of our four victims?'

'Make that six victims,' Brass interjected from the doorway. 'Just got a call. Patrol found your other missing couple, Nick. Sliced and diced like the first two couples.'

* * *

'Going by George's story, this sounds like our perps,' Sara was saying as they drove back towards the labs, Grissom at the wheel.

'There's nothing concrete to support that yet, Sara,' Grissom replied in his usual even tone. 'Let's not get ahead of the evidence.'

'I'm just saying it _sounds_ like their MO,' Sara replied, trying to keep her annoyance in check. 'I'm not drawing any conclusions…'

'What about the other cases you were reviewing? Any red flags?'

'A few – maybe two more that were very similar to our two cases. One just east of Barstow. Another about 60 miles west of Vegas. Teenaged couples, middle of the desert. Mutilation – but their hearts were still where they're supposed to be…'

'So, maybe that part's new to their MO…' Grissom speculated. 'They're evolving… maybe it has something to do with Valentine's day. Or maybe they're decompensating.'

'Which means they'll start making mistakes,' Sara said, crossing her fingers.

'Hopefully,' Grissom sighed, squinting his eyes against the glare of the oncoming traffic's headlights. He fell silent.

'You okay?' Sara asked him after a few moments. She noticed a hint of pain in his blue eyes.

'Yeah…' he replied, squinting again. 'Just a headache.'

'Want me to drive?'

'No, I'm fine,' he lied. She could tell.

'Pull over, Grissom.'

He looked at her and opened his mouth to protest, but he saw the concern in her eyes. Sighing, he flipped on the car's indicator and pulled over at the side of the dirt road. Putting the car in park, he raised his hand to his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave off the headache.

'I'll be fine in a few minutes.'

All of a sudden, he felt her fingertips gently touch the back of his neck and begin to massage the taut muscle there. He let out a soft sigh as he felt the tension begin to melt away in the presence of her touch.

'I think you missed your calling, Sara,' he told her softly.

'Well… I'm a woman of many talents,' she replied with a smile.

'Of that I have no doubt,' he told her as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax. 'So, uh…Valentine's Day is tomorrow.'

'Is it?' Sara replied, as her fingers continued to deftly rub his neck.

'So… given your distaste for the day, I guess I shouldn't plan anything…'

Her fingers stilled. 'You were going to plan something?'

'Well… I don't know. Maybe… but if you hate Valentine's _that_ much…'

He was baiting her. She could hear the teasing in his voice. With a smirk, she squeezed the back of his neck.

'Hey!' he objected.

'You know full well I was only ranting for the sake of ranting.'

He looked at her and smirked. 'I know.'

'So… what you had planned…?'

'Is a surprise,' he told her softly, his eyes flicking to her lips. In one slow move, he closed the distance between them and was kissing her.

She felt her body respond to him instantly, her hand moving from the back of his neck, up into the soft curls of his hair. With a soft moan, he pulled her closer to him, sliding one of his hands along her upper spine and into her hair, making her shudder with anticipation.

The kiss deepened, their mutual desire, their need for each other, become more apparent with each passing second. Sara lost herself completely to the kiss, blocking out everything but the touch of Grissom's lips. Until the sound of a car slowing down broke through her blissful cloud and startled her back to reality.

The interior of the car was temporarily bathed in the glow of headlights, before the car rounded them and was gone, disappearing into the darkness of the night. Sara breathed a long, deep sign of relief.

'That was close.'

'That was careless,' Grissom said, guiltily. Sara looked at him. He looked thoroughly ashamed of himself. 'I'm sorry, Sara. I don't know what came over me.'

'Don't be sorry, Grissom… Sure, we got a little carried away, but…'

'But that's exactly how those other couples were caught. Parked in the middle of nowhere… distracted.'

Sara's eyes widened as the realisation hit her full. 'Man… now you're creeping me out, Gris.'

Just then, Grissom's cell phone bleated and Sara jumped, barely stifling a small scream of surprise. He arched an eyebrow at her, his guilt temporarily replaced by amusement at her jumpiness. He flicked the cell phone open.

'Grissom.'

'Gris? Nick,' Nick Stokes' voice came down the line. 'We've had some developments at this end. We have the name of a suspect… And another murdered couple.'

'Where?'

'The desert again. About 6 miles from Lake Mead, just off Robertson Road.'

'Who's the suspect?'

'A Lana Tyler. 17 years old. Ran off with her boyfriend a year and a half ago. He left her after she started talking about killing folks with the hunting knife she bought herself. We have her and what's probably her new boyfriend on camera, tailing Clive and Mary the night they went missing. Warrick ran the plates and they came back to her.'

'Lana…' Grissom thought for a moment. 'We just interviewed someone who was kidnapped with his girlfriend six months ago – possibly by our killer couple. He says that the girl was going by the name _Alabama_.'

'_True Romance_, Gris,' Nick told him.

'What?'

'Geez, you're as bad as Brass. It's a movie. Lana's ex-boyfriend said they thought they were Clarence and Alabama from _True Romance_. She must have found a new Clarence…'

'Have Warrick enhance the image you have on tape, and show it to our kidnap victim. Sounds like these cases are connected.'

'Sure thing, boss.'

'We're not too far from the new scene,' Grissom then told him. 'See you there.'

He hung up. Starting the car once more, he looked as Sara, his expression grim.

'New scene?' Sara asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

'Another couple have been found,' Grissom told her, shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the side of the road.

'And the guys have a suspect?'

'Well, we've found out who Bonnie is. We just need to identify Clyde.'

TBC.


	7. Commonality

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

Chapter Seven - Commonality

Red and blue lights pierced the gloom of the desert, as the early morning light began to creep across the sand. Grissom and Sara pulled up in their Tahoe beside Nick, Catherine and Warrick, who were standing back, letting David do his thing.

'What have we got?' Grissom asked as he and Sara reached their colleagues.

'Young couple, Jessica Reynolds and Mark Lewis. Went missing three nights ago, 48 hours after our first couple.'

'Every other day,' Grissom mused quietly to himself.

'Beg you're pardon?' Catherine asked.

'It's Tuesday morning, right? The first couple went missing last Wednesday, but weren't found until Saturday night. We found Haley Michaels and Jason Clements on Sunday night; just hours after they were last seen. This couple went missing second, three nights ago – Friday night. Wednesday, Friday, Sunday… it's a pattern. We're just finding the bodies out of order.'

Sara's admiring look at his logic was quickly replaced by one of worry. 'Which means, if they follow their pattern, they'll strike again tonight.'

'Let's not let that happen. Warrick, did you enhance the image of the two suspects from the night Clive and Mary disappeared?'

'Yeah,' Warrick replied. 'I couldn't get a good picture of the guy, but the girl is as clear as a bell.'

'Take it to this address,' Grissom told him, handing him a slip of paper with George Matthews' address written on it. 'And show it to our kidnap victim. The sooner we tie that incident to these murders, the better chance we have of working out the pattern. And ask him where he and his girlfriend were before they drove to the desert.'

'On it,' Warrick nodded and walked briskly to his SUV.

'Nick, you take the perimeter,' Grissom started to mobilise the rest of his troops. 'Check the road, check the sand. Anything the perps might have left behind. Sara, overall locator shots and close-ups. Take pictures of everything. Catherine. You and I will take the bodies.'

Catherine nodded her head towards the young girl that lay just a few feet from where they stood. 'I'll take the girlfriend.'

'Let's get the scene processed and get back to the lab,' Grissom said. 'We need to work out the pattern, and we're against the clock.'

* * *

Evidence had been turned in to Trace and DNA, the bodies had been transported to the morgue, and Sara had laid out all the crime scene photos and case notes on the large table in the layout room. Seven cases in all, one kidnapping, and six double murders – three they had yet to prove was the work of their serials, but Sara knew. She felt it in her gut. These crimes were the work of the same homicidal couple.

The rest of the team were still completing their own tasks, before they would come here to work through all the evidence together. As far as she knew, Grissom and Catherine were looking in on the autopsies. She was taking a few moments to herself in the break room, pouring herself a cup of coffee, when a rap on the door drew her attention.

"Sara Sidle?" the man asked.

"That's me," she replied, her attention now drawn to the official looking letter in his hand. A subpoena.

She barely heard a word he said next, but took the proffered clip board from him and signed her name in a daze. She knew, before she even opened the envelope, what it was in regard to. She muttered a 'thank you' to the court official and sat down at the table with the letter as he left.

Fingers trembling slightly, she withdrew the stiff, official piece of paper and unfolded it.

She was still staring at it when Grissom entered several minutes later. The look on her face, as she continued to stare blindly at the paper in front of her, sent his protective streak into overdrive.

'Sara?' he asked hesitantly, not wanting to startle her as she looked so far away.

Slowly, she looked up. 'Hey,' she attempted a smile.

Moving towards her quickly, he settled into the chair next to her and reached out, placing a comforting hand on her arm. 'What's wrong, honey?' he asked her.

Not trusting herself to speak, she handed him the subpoena, which he read in seconds. He nodded his head, understanding.

'I spoke to the DA yesterday. Jill… they've decided she's ready to stand trial. Her injuries… she's healing well apparently.'

Grissom was careful to refer to her injuries in a detached manner, trying desperately to ignore the fact that he had caused the bullet wound to Jill's shoulder, when she had kidnapped Sara and threatened to kill her. Grissom had never opened fire on anyone before, had only drawn his gun once before to aim it at a suspect – again in defence of one of his CSIs. But this time, he acknowledged somewhere deep inside himself, it was different. If Jill had hurt Sara, he knew he would have had no hesitation in making the kill shot. And that unsettled him more than he would admit.

'Are you okay?' he asked her, instantly closing his eyes in disgust with himself for the stupidity of the question. Of course she wasn't _all right_.

'I'm… I thought I'd dealt with it and moved on, but…' Sara faltered, still unable to put her fears into words.

'It's okay. It takes time,' Grissom told her, his voice full of tenderness. 'Are you still having the nightmares?'

'Some. Not as many as before,' she said, finally looking at him. 'Grissom, I…'

They were interrupted by the irritating bleat of his cell phone.

'Damn. Sorry,' he apologised before flipping the phone open and answering it. 'Grissom.'

He listened.

'Mr. Mayor, I understand that, but this is an ongoing investigation and…'

He rolled his eyes in frustration as the Mayor obviously cut him off.

'We are following several possible leads… No, I do not believe the fact of whose daughter she is has anything to do with Haley Michael's death… there's no evidence to support that… No, we've ruled Stacey Marks out of our enquiries,' he said, referring to the girl who had threatened Haley a week before her death.

Again he lapsed into frustrated silence as the Mayor continued to talk.

'Look, Mr Mayor, I'm currently dealing with at least three double homicides at the hand of the same perpetrators. I can't tell you anything else until I know more myself. I have a meeting to get to, so if you'll excuse me,' he said, ending the call before the Mayor could protest.

'Politics,' Sara observed, somewhat amused.

Grissom rubbed his hands over his face. 'I swear, Sara, one of these days this political crap is going to drive me out of here.'

Sara shook her head in disbelief. 'That's never going to happen,' she told him.

'So where were we?' he asked, getting back to their earlier conversation. 'You were about to say something?'

Any mirth that had been present on her face suddenly left, and she lowered her eyes to the table, avoiding his gaze. 'It was… nothing.'

'Sara,' he said, slipping one hand under her chin and tilting her face upwards. Still she wouldn't meet his eyes. 'Talk to me.'

'I just… you're going to have to testify too, aren't you?'

'Of course. But…'

'Not just about the… murder,' she began, unable to say Hank Pettigrew's name. 'But about the night she… about the shooting…'

Grissom let out a small sigh of understanding. 'So that's what's wrong,' he said.

'I'm so sorry I put you in that position…' Sara started to say, but Grissom cut her off.

'No. I'm not letting you do that,' he told her firmly.

Shocked by his stern tone, her eyes finally met his. 'Wh…what?'

'I'm not going to let you start beating yourself up over what happened, Sara,' he told her in the same firm voice. 'It _was not_ your fault.'

Tears swam in her eyes, as she struggled to believe his words. Seeing the pain in her eyes, he moved his hand from her face and slipped it around her shoulders, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

'It's going to be alright, Sara,' he told her, his voice soft and tender once more. 'I promise.'

His arms felt so warm and secure, Sara felt herself melt into them. She had been trying to fool herself for the past few weeks that she was fine, that her experience with Jill hadn't affected her. She had spent her entire adult life, not to mention a large part of her childhood, convinced that she should always appear self-sufficient and confident, that she should never be weak enough to _need _someone to lean on. Now, in Grissom's arms, she started to reconsider that outlook.

Sara suddenly realised where the were – in the middle of the layout room at work – not the most appropriate setting to be found in the boss's arms. Reluctantly, she pulled away and gave him a brave smile.

'This probably isn't the best place…' she said quietly.

Unwilling to stop touching her just yet, Grissom settled for placing his hand on her arm. This is how they were still sitting when Catherine, Warrick and Nick entered the room. The gesture didn't escape any of their attention. However, Nick was the first to notice that Sara looked upset.

'Sara… you okay?' he said, concern creeping into his Texan drawl.

She attempted another brave smile and gestured towards the subpoena that now lay on the table in front of her. 'It's just… Jill's trial date's been set. I'm okay… it's just…' she faltered.

Nick gave her a supportive smile. 'Yeah. If you need me…'

'I know,' she told him, rewarding his kindness with a stronger smile. 'Thanks.'

Grissom finally tore his eyes away from Sara and reluctantly removed his hand from her arm. 'Let's get started, shall we?'

'Greg's not here yet,' Catherine observed. 'Aren't we waiting for him?'

'He's rushing the DNA on our new case,' Grissom told her. 'He says he's quicker than Mia. But apparently I'm not to get any funny ideas about giving him his old job back. So, what do we have so far?'

'Well, I got us our confirmation. Our murder suspects were also kidnappers,' Warrick told her. 'Just got back from interviewing George Matthews and he was positive. This was the girl that kidnapped him.'

'Good work, Warrick,' Grissom said. 'How about where he and his girlfriend were before they drove out to the desert?'

'They were at a movie. Just off the strip.'

'How are you coming with tying in the other three murders?' Nick asked Sara.

'We don't have any DNA or trace to confirm it,' Sara told them. 'But it's them. Same MO – young couples, desert, mutilation.'

'Okay, lets go over everything we have so far,' Grissom suggested. 'Seven couples that we know of. Abducted while parked in the desert. Driven somewhere even more secluded. According to our survivor, they were then tormented, threatened. His attackers got bored and let them go. In the six other cases, the couples were shot, then mutilated post-mortem.'

'Except Haley Michaels,' Catherine cut in. 'She put up a fight – killer stabbed her repeatedly.'

'Change of MO brought about by a loss of control?' Grissom suggested. 'Killer wasn't expecting her to fight back. Forced him or her to change the mode of death.'

'I'm voting for 'her' in Haley's case,' Sara said. 'DNA under her nails came back XX. She was fighting with the girl – presumably Lana Tyler.'

'Makes sense,' Grissom agreed. 'In the kidnap case, Lana controlled the girl while her boyfriend controlled George.'

At that point in the meeting, Bobby Dawson entered the room holding a report which he handed to Sara.

'I ran the comparison you asked for,' he told her, including Grissom and the rest of the CSI in his brief address. 'Perfect match.'

'Bobby, you are the best,' Sara told him sincerely. He smiled and returned to his domain of guns and ammo.

'Confirmation?' Grissom asked her.

'Yeah,' Sara replied, looking through the report. 'The same gun was used in all of the murders.'

'Okay, so our suspects grab these kids in the desert. Murder them…' Nick sought to get his bearings. 'But they only cut the hearts out of these last three victims…'

'Evolving MO,' Grissom suggested. 'Escalation.'

'It was the next step for them, Nick,' Sara told him. 'The three previous couples had… parts cut from them. No internal organs, but they took fingers, toes, uh … _etc_…'

Nick's eyes were wide as he got Sara's meaning. 'I could have gone a long while without knowing that,' he told her, his face contorted in disgust.

'How did we not know about these other cases before?' Warrick wanted to know.

'Two of the couples were found just outside Clark County,' Grissom told him. 'Not our jurisdiction. And the other case… it was Day-shift's.'

'Figures,' Nick grunted.

'How did Ecklie miss a connection like that?'

The look on Grissom's face answered that question. He was saved having to say anything disrespectful but deserved about his inept colleague by the arrival of Greg.

'Okay, my genius has come through once more. In record time, I might add,' Greg announced. 'DNA collected on the latest case is a match for the first two cases.'

'Great,' Catherine said as the young CSI took a seat at the table. 'But it doesn't get us any closer to finding them. We need to find the commonality. Where were these kids when the suspects spotted them?'

They went round and round the table, trying to make a connection that would lead them to the suspects, and getting no further.

'This is crazy,' Nick blew out, frustrated. 'We have a ton of evidence. Why isn't it getting us anywhere?'

Grissom didn't answer. He was watching Sara, a hint of tenderness softening his face. She hadn't spoken in several minutes, but was bent over the table; several evidence envelops spread out in front of her like a desk of cards. Her brow was knit with concentration.

'Sara? You still with us?' Grissom asked her.

'Hmm?' she replied, not lifting her head, a strange, knowing smile playing on her lips. 'Nick? What do teenagers do these days?'

Nick's surprise matched the rest of his colleagues' at the bizarre and unexpected nature of the question. 'What?'

'Teenagers? When they're on dates. Where do they go?' she persisted.

'Jeez, Sara. Has it been so long you don't remember?' Nick joked.

Sara finally looked up from the table with a look that wiped the smile off Nick's face. He held up his hands in surrender.

'Um…okay,' he thought about it. 'Bowling? The fun park? The movies?'

Sara smiled, obviously having heard the answer she'd expected. 'Exactly,' she replied.

The rest of the table still looked confused.

'Clive Johnson and Mary Gibson, before they went into the desert, went to see a movie. At the Playhouse. Warrick? Where did you say George Matthews and his girlfriend went the night they were abducted?'

'The Playhouse. Just off the strip,' Warrick replied with a grin, catching on.

'Val Hunt and Mark Holmes, one of the couples found in the desert just outside Clark County, also went on a double date to the Playhouse the night they were killed,' Sara went on.

Grissom was rummaging through the case files on the table. 'I saw something… in Ecklie's case. Rhonda Farrell had a movie ticket stub in her pocket.' He found the piece of evidence he was looking for. 'For the Playhouse. The night she was killed.'

'We found our commonality,' Catherine said. 'I would bet a month's salary that the rest of the couples were at the same movie theatre.'

'Makes sense,' Warrick reasoned. 'Place like that? Ideal hunting ground. Place is coming down with teenaged couples. Especially since they installed those double seats in all the theatres…'

'Ah, the love seats,' Greg said in a wistful voice. 'Many a date has become putty in my hand there…'

Ignoring him, Grissom turned to Sara. 'Call Brass. He's going to want to put a squad of undercover officers down there tonight.'

'On it,' Sara told him, getting up and heading for the door. She was almost across the threshold when his voice stopped her.

'Good work, Sara.'

She turned and flashed him her brightest smile. 'Thanks.' She hurried off to make the call.

Grissom turned back to the rest of his team, and was about to continue the meeting when he was interrupted by an unwelcome voice.

'Got a minute?' Ecklie asked.

'Not really, Conrad,' Grissom replied. 'I'm kind of in the middle of a meeting.'

'Well your presence is required at another one,' was the unctuous reply. 'Director Cavallo wants a word. Something about your attitude towards the Mayor.'

TBC.


	8. Valentine's Day

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

Chapter Eight – Valentine's Day

The evidence had been processed. The common link found. One of the suspects identified. An APB for the suspect and her car had been issued and every cop in Vegas had their eyes peeled.

Now all they had to do was wait.

Waiting. Not Sara Sidle's favourite occupation.

She sat in the layout room, drumming her fingers on the table, staring at the photographs before her. Somewhere, wandering the streets of Vegas, were two psychotic killers who had done unspeakable things to at least twelve teenagers. Sara had no doubt they would kill countless more unless they were caught. And that fact that it was now Tuesday, February 14th, she could only fear that tonight they would kill more spectacularly than before.

A profound sense of uselessness overwhelmed Sara. She excelled at finding the evidence, interpreting it, solving the crime. But none of that was helping close this case and she felt like she was waiting on the edge of a precipice, with nothing to do but wait for the killers' next move.

* * *

Director Robert Cavallo was not a happy man. He had a busy life, filled with paperwork, liaising with the press, having business lunches with the Sheriff, important business men and politicians. He didn't have time to field phone calls from an irate Mayor regarding his night shift supervisor.

A knock on his office door made him look up frowning from his desk. 'Come in,' was his irritable invitation.

Grissom opened the door and gave the director a polite nod. 'Robert? You wanted to see me?'

'Yeah, Gil. Get the hell in here,' Cavallo didn't have time to beat about the bush. 'What the hell did you say to the Mayor? He's been yelling in my ear for twenty minutes.'

'I told him I was working on an active investigation and couldn't discuss anything with him at this time,' Grissom replied reasonably.

'He said you hung up on him!'

'Not that I recall,' Grissom replied, his voice calm and even. 'I believe I told him I had a meeting to get to and that I would speak to him when I could release more information.'

'Grissom,' Cavallo exhaled, attempting to keep his own voice calm. Grissom's perpetual calmness always succeeded in raising the director's blood pressure. 'I know you have all the political savvy of a radish. But even you must realise that there are certain ways of dealing with men like the Mayor. And being unreasonable is not one of them.'

Grissom frowned. 'Robert, this _is _an active investigation. I can't start divulging information to anyone not involved in the case. Not even the Mayor. It would be unethical. I've explained as much I can to him. I would think that as director of this lab, you'd support me in this.'

Grissom had played his trump card. Cavallo knew that the Mayor had no right to any information regarding an active investigation, no matter what personal interest he might have. He also knew that Grissom was calling him out, demanding in his own, non-aggressive Grissom way, that Cavallo realise where his loyalties lay – namely with the law and with the lab.

Cavallo raised his hands in defeat. 'Try and go one week without pissing off a politician. That's all I ask. Any other calls from the Mayor, direct him my way. _Politely._'

'Of course,' Grissom replied, giving his boss a gracious smile. '_Thank you_, Robert.'

* * *

Catherine reached into the break room fridge and was relieved to find no experiment waiting there to put her off her lunch. Grissom apparently had started to listen to his team's repeated complaints. Or, more likely, he didn't have an ongoing experiment running at the moment.

Grabbing her tuna fish on rye and a soda, she carried her lunch back to the table to join Warrick and Nick.

'So, did anyone else notice something weird going on with Grissom and Sara today?' Catherine asked, subtle as ever.

It didn't escape her notice that Warrick immediately averted his eyes and didn't answer. Nick however, nodded.

'You mean how Sara was upset and Grissom…' he trailed off, trying to find the right description. 'Grissom was being… _sensitive._'

'Uh huh,' Catherine agreed. 'And there was the small matter of the way he kept looking at her.'

'Looking at her?'

'Come on, Nicky. You're supposed to be an investigator,' Catherine groaned in frustration. 'You remember that dumb look he used to get when Terri Miller was here?'

Nick laughed at the memory. 'Oh _yeah_.'

Catherine raised her eyebrows and waited for her point to hit home. It didn't take long.

'Really?' Nick was surprised. 'He was looking at Sara like that?'

'Uh huh.'

'You think something's going on that we don't know about?'

'I don't know. Warrick?' Catherine asked expectantly. She and Nick both turned to look inquisitively at their so far silent friend.

Warrick looked at his two colleagues innocently.

'Hmm? Sorry?'

'Cut the innocent act, Warrick,' Catherine told him. 'I know you know something.'

Warrick shrugged. 'About what?'

'_Warrick!'_

Warrick huffed out a breath. 'Catherine. Whatever I do or don't know, _you _know one thing for sure…'

'Which is?'

'You know I'm not going to tell you.' Warrick smiled and got to his feet. 'It's none of our business, Cath.'

With a shrug he left the room.

Catherine and Nick looked at each other, grinning. 'Well, that settles it,' Catherine said. 'If Warrick won't talk about it, there's _definitely_ something going on.'

* * *

Sara was still sitting in the layout room when Grissom found her. He could tell from the way she was sitting that she hadn't left that chair since the meeting ended two hours ago.

'Sara?'

She turned at the sound of his voice and gave him a tired smile. 'Hey.'

'Go home and get some rest.'

'There's something here,' she told him, turning back to the pictures. 'If I could just…'

'Sara, you're tired. You've just worked a double shift. For, what? The fifth time in less than two weeks? You need to go home and sleep.'

She turned back to him, ready to argue, but the determination on his face coupled with her own exhaustion won out. 'Fine. Okay. I'll go home.' She got to her feet and walked towards him and the door.

'Thank you,' he told her. 'There's nothing more any of us can do at this point.'

'Except wait. Right?'

He nodded with a sympathetic shrug. He knew how she felt. He was frustrated with the way the case was going too. But there was only so much they could do.

'The police are looking. They're increasing patrols in the desert tonight…'

'Needle in a haystack,' Sara replied cynically.

'You'll feel better when you've had some sleep. And dinner.'

'Dinner?'

'We have plans tonight, remember?'

Sara sighed. 'Valentine's Day. But…'

Grissom knew what she was going to say. 'We have two pagers and two cell phones between us. If they need us, they'll call.'

Sara couldn't fault his logic. And as frustrated as she was about the cases, the thought of dinner with Grissom, on Valentine's Day of all days, certainly had its charms.

'Okay, I give in,' she told him with a smile. 'What time?'

* * *

Grissom returned to his office to file away a last piece of paperwork before heading home for some well earned sleep before his date that night. He slid the filing cabinet drawer shut when someone behind him cleared their throat. He turned to find Catherine hovering in the doorway.

'You off?' she asked.

'Yeah. You should be home by now,' he told her.

'I'm going. I just wanted...' she hesitated, wondering how best to broach the subject. Then inspiration struck. 'I wanted some advice…'

Grissom cocked an eyebrow in a mixture of concern and surprise. If Catherine was coming to _him _for advice, things must be bad.

'Sure. What's up?'

'Well… let just say I… have certain romantic feelings for someone,' she started. '_Hypothetically_, of course. And _hypothetically_, this someone is… a colleague.'

'Warrick?' Grissom asked.

Catherine blushed slightly. 'Um, no… not Warrick. But let's just say… maybe I have seniority over this person. What's… what's departmental regulations about that?'

Grissom frowned slightly. Was Catherine being serious or was she getting at what he though she was getting at?

'Um… I believe current regulations are that interoffice relationships are discouraged but not forbidden,' Grissom replied slowly. 'As long as both parties are discreet and don't bring the relationship to work.'

'What about the seniority part?'

Grissom thought for a moment. 'I suppose, _ethically_, if you were a supervisor, you really shouldn't date a subordinate. Supervision, in that instance, would be transferred to someone else…' he trailed off, knowing full well what Catherine was getting at. 'But we're not talking about you, are we Cath?'

Catherine shrugged. 'Who are we talking about, Gil?'

Grissom sighed. 'How did you find out?'

'Woman's intuition,' she replied with a smile. She closed the door and moved closer to his desk. 'It also says in the department regulations that personnel have to be informed, in writing, to guard against any potential sexual harassment charges. And you should really think about transferring supervision of Sara to someone else.'

'A little unsolicited advice?'

'One friend to another. Rumour has it, when Cavallo moves up, Ecklie moves in to his office. He'd love nothing more that to burn you with something. He could screw up both your and Sara's careers. So, play by the book and don't let him.'

Grissom gave her a small smile of gratitude. 'Thanks, Cath. I'll… I'll talk to Sara about it.'

'No problem.'

'I assume I don't have to tell you to keep this to yourself?'

She gave him an innocent smile. 'Keep what to myself?'

'Thanks.'

She moved to the door and opened it. Before leaving, she turned back to him once more. 'Oh, and Gil?'

'Yeah.'

'_About time._'

* * *

Grissom managed to grab his required six hours of sleep, before waking up refreshed and ready to cook what he hoped would be a first rate dinner for Sara. He had considered taking her to a nice restaurant, but changed his plans after her reaction to him making her breakfast. Not only would he impress her socks off with his culinary skills (which weren't too shabby, in his own humble opinion), but he also relished the opportunity to spend some quality time with Ms Sidle – quality _alone_ time.

Punctual as ever, she arrived at eight with a broad smile and a bottle of wine. Or, as she explained thirty seconds later, a bottle of grape juice masquerading as wine. He greeted her with a soft kiss on the lips and took her jacket.

As he carefully arranged hors d'oeuvres on a plate, he found his eyes drawn to her. She was wearing a halter neck that flattered her in all the right places, and as his eyes wandered along the contours of her neck and down her back, he found himself fantasising about following the same path with his hands, his lips. Then he remembered that he was no longer restricted to merely fantasising about doing such things, and a grin that he couldn't contain spread across his face.

'What?' Sara asked, as she turned from the butterfly collection she was examining, and found him smiling at her.

He shrugged and carried the plate over to the coffee table. 'Can't a fella be happy once in a while?'

'I guess,' her voice teased as she approached him and sat down on the couch. He joined her, sitting a polite, but still relatively close, distance away. Despite the lightness of her mood, Grissom noticed that Sara seemed a little distracted. A restless aura surrounded her, and she had barely stayed still for more than thirty seconds since she arrive in his apartment ten minutes earlier.

'Everything okay?' he asked.

She smiled, trying to reassure him. 'Sure.' She paused, not wanting to bring it up, and unable to stop herself. 'Any word from Brass yet?'

He had suspected the case was what was on her mind. 'No. Not yet.' He sighed a little. 'Did you know that the term hors d'oeuvres comes from the literal French for '_outside the work_'?' he asked her, gesturing towards the plate.

Sara reached forward and picked a tasty-looking specimen. Bringing it to her lips, she smirked at him. 'Subtle.' Taking a bite, she unwillingly let out an appreciative noise. Grissom really _was_ a good cook. Swallowing, she regarded him seriously for a moment. 'How do you do it?'

'Do what?'

'Compartmentalise?'

Grissom sighed. 'Sara, I get just as frustrated as anyone else over cases. When they aren't going our way… it's difficult to let go. But I had to learn a long time ago that if I didn't leave work at work, at least some of the time, I'd burn out. And I worry about that with you, Sara. You get so caught up in your cases…'

She started to object, but he placed his hand on hers, silently asking her to let him finish. 'That's what makes you such a great investigator. Your empathy. Your passion. But you have to draw a line sometimes, Sara. Allow yourself to have a life. If you burn out, who will help the victims then?'

She was silent as she allowed herself to absorb his words. She knew, deep down, that he made a lot of sense. She just wasn't sure she knew how to detach from certain things.

His hand moved up her arm and across her shoulders. She suddenly found herself in his arms, and rationalisation was no longer of much interest to her. Turning her face to his, she lost herself in his deep, blue eyes.

'Dinner will be another thirty minutes,' he told her, tilting his face towards her.

'Perfect,' she breathed before his lips descended.

The heat of their kisses warmed her blood and sent all other thoughts out of her mind. Her hands found their way to his face and they lingered there a while, enjoying the tactile sensation of his bearded cheeks before they slid around to gently tease the curls at the back of his neck.

Sara's kisses were like fire that sent electrical charges running down his spine and into each of his limbs. He wondered if the passion and heat they shared was innate or a by-product of years of repressing their feelings for one another. What he did know was that no other woman had ever excited him the way that Sara Sidle did. Everything about her, from her fierce intelligence and forthright personality to her intense, unassuming beauty, made his senses hum and his heart race.

Sinking deeper into each other, they slid down lower into the couch, Sara pulling him down on top of her. His lips reluctantly leaving hers, he began to explore her neck, quickly discovering her sensitive spots. He grinned to himself as she let out an especially satisfying moan and slid her fingers down his spine, digging them into his back when he hit an extra sensitive part of her neck.

He was debating with himself where his next point of exploration should be when he was rudely interrupted by the oven timer. He groaned into her neck and then gave her an apologetic look, only to discover her grinning at him.

'Saved by the bell,' she chuckled.

'_Saved_?' His eyebrow went up.

'Yeah, for a second there, I thought we were going to skip dinner and head straight for dessert,' she teased.

The eyebrow was still making its presence felt. 'And that would be a bad thing?'

'Not necessarily… But, I'm starving,' she told him. 'And besides… the night is still young.'

* * *

Sara was impressed. Before her sat a man who was a genius, revered in his field, not to mention the most attractive man she ever had the good fortune to meet. And, included in that package – the man could cook. Vegetarian, no less.

They kept the conversation light, Sara managing to steer clear of work talk altogether after Grissom's earlier suggestion. She was surprised, therefore, when he was the one to bring it up, once they had moved to the couch with their after-dinner coffee.

'This isn't the most… romantic of topics,' he started. 'But I wanted to talk to you about something.'

'Okay. That sounds ominous,' she replied.

'Catherine knows.'

It took Sara a moment to get it. 'She knows what? … Oh. God. She knows? About us? How?'

'I have no idea. She says she guessed,' Grissom told her. 'But she brought up a valid point.'

'Which is?'

'Work. There's no regulation that says we can't be involved. But…'

Sara groaned. 'How did I know there would be a 'but'…?'

'Apparently we have to report the relationship to personnel. In writing. And I shouldn't supervise you directly anymore; do your evaluations, that sort of thing…'

'Oh…' was all she said. Grissom wasn't sure if she was taking it well or badly.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally looked at him. 'So, how do you feel about it?'

'Which part?'

'The lab knowing about your private life? Disrupting your work life?' She was watching him intently, waiting for a reaction.

'I…' he thought for a moment, and looked at her with a puzzled expression. 'I hadn't really considered how I felt about it… I was more worried about how you'd feel.'

_Not the answer I was expecting_, she thought. _But definitely the right answer_. 'Wow,' was all she managed to say.

'I suppose if it means we get to be together, then it's worth it,' he continued, still amazed at this revelation about himself. A year ago, he probably would have freaked out.

'Who are you and what have you done with Gil Grissom?' Sara asked, laughing. She slid her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. A new thought crossed her mind. 'So, who's going to be my new supervisor?'

'I figured Catherine could do it,' Grissom suggested. 'One step closer to doing my job…'

Sara pulled away to look at him. 'Catherine?'

'What? You'd prefer Ecklie?'

'Valid point.' She hugged him again. 'Pity though… Catherine's not as cute as my last supervisor…'

He gave her a squeeze. 'I should hope not…'

'So, what did she say?' Sara asked. 'You know, about us?'

'She said it was about time.'

Sara smile and looked at him again. 'Really?'

'Uh huh.'

Sara kissed him softly on the lips. 'Well, she was definitely right about that,' she whispered seductively before kissing him more deeply, stealing his breath away and raising his pulse rate in seconds. The passion they had kept at bay earlier was back with a vengeance and they were helpless to it.

Moaning into her mouth, Grissom slid his hand through the silky locks of her dark hair and pressed her more tightly to him. His other hand traced her spine, making her shiver with anticipation. The hand slid back up under the filmy material of her top, running lightly over her skin, revelling in the soft warmth of her flesh.

Sara ran her hands down Grissom's surprisingly well-defined arms and back up again, enjoying the firm strength she felt in them. Continuing her journey, she crossed his shoulders and worked her way down to his chest. Her fingers hesitated over the top most button of his shirt.

Grissom once again moved to explore her neck with his lips and tongue, and when his other hand joined his first on the small of her back, Sara felt emboldened into action. Methodically, she opened the first button of his shirt. She was on the fourth, her fingers now shaking with excitement when her pager and Grissom's cell phone exploded into action at the same time.

'Damn it!' she exclaimed fiercely, before she could restrain herself.

Grissom grinned, just as disappointed by the interruption as Sara, but highly amused by her outburst none-the-less. 'Down girl,' he teased as he reached for the offending piece of technology.

'Grissom.'

Sara didn't have to look at her pager. The look on Grissom's face told her that the evening was over.

'Happy Valentine's Day,' she muttered ironically.

TBC.


	9. Tightening the Net

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

Chapter Nine – Tightening the Net

The teenage couple were badly beaten. Matt Hawkins, 18, had a broken nose and several lacerations to his head and arms. Karen Walker, also 18, was so battered and bloody that it was difficult to pinpoint her exact injuries.

They'd been together for a little over six months, and this had been their first Valentine's Day together. As such, Matt had done it right, presenting Karen with a dozen red roses and a silver charm bracelet before whisking her off for a romantic dinner for two. Afterwards, he made the mistake of taking her to see a movie at the Playhouse Movie Theatre, just off the strip. It was from there that they were followed, just like seven teenaged couples before them. And just like the previous couples, the murderous couple, styling themselves as Clarence and Alabama, had ensnared them in their gruesome web of violence.

Miraculously, they were both still alive.

Just as the violence was spiralling towards the final climactic double murder, a police patrol car came along the quiet stretch of desert road the killers had brought their victims to. Seeing the cop car, Clarence and Alabama fled, leaving two frightened, battered, but very much alive witnesses in their wake.

'So much for my needle in a haystack theory,' Sara mused, feeling both relieved and frustrated. Sure, this couple had been saved from a horrific death, but what about the next victims? Their killer couple had escaped and there was still no way to track them.

'They'll strike again. Soon,' Grissom statement was not a guess, it was a fact. Aside from bugs, serial and signature killers were his area of expertise. 'Their failure here will drive them to find another victim. They'll escalate. And it's still Valentine's… they'll try to find a new couple tonight.'

He looked towards the rest of his team. Catherine was already at the hospital, waiting for one of their victims to be ready to give a statement, as well as to collect their clothing for evidence. Warrick and Nick, however, were still at the crime scene – Warrick was currently casting a promising tread mark on the road, while Nick scanned the area for the smallest piece of evidence.

Grissom turned to Sara. 'Can you get over to the hospital and help Catherine.' he asked her. 'These victims may be the only lead we have.'

Sara nodded and walked quickly to the Tahoe as Grissom approached Warrick.

'What have you got?'

'Fresh tread,' Warrick answered, not looking up from his work. 'Hopefully it's our suspects' vehicle. I'll run it as soon as we get back to the lab.'

'Good. I'm going to check in with Brass, see if he has anything,' Grissom said. 'He's still running surveillance on the movie theatre, in case our perps go back tonight.'

'Yeah.' Warrick finished casting and looked up at Grissom. 'Sorry this messed up your date.'

Grissom frowned. 'Date? Who said I was on a date?'

Warrick had a playful glint in his eye, but shrugged and went back to his work. 'Guess I heard wrong. My bad…'

* * *

Sara arrived at the hospital and found Catherine being handed two brown bags filled with clothing.

'Thanks,' she told the nurse who'd collected the clothing for her. She turned as she sensed Sara's approach. 'Hey.'

'Hey,' Sara replied. 'Have you spoken to either victim yet?'

Catherine shook her head. 'The girl still isn't conscious. The boyfriend is stable, but they wanted to clean him up, get him on some painkillers before they let me see him.'

Sara nodded towards the bags Catherine now held. 'Want me to get those to the lab for you?'

'Greg's on his way to pick them up,' Catherine told her. 'So you can keep me company 'til they let us in to see Matt.'

Sara shrugged. 'Okay.'

They sat down in a quiet corner of the waiting area and Sara stared pensively at the wall in front of her. She couldn't get her head around the fact that, just over an hour ago, she was in Grissom's arms, and now she was on the job, again. There was a time she welcomed ever scrap of overtime she could get her hands on. Now she was amazed to find it inconvenient and more than a little annoying. Maybe she was growing…

She wondered how long it would take Catherine to bring up Sara's fledgling relationship with their enigmatic boss. She didn't have to wonder long.

'So. You and Grissom...'

Sara didn't look at her. 'Uh huh.'

Catherine raised an eyebrow. 'Is that all I get? An 'uh huh'?'

'Yup.'

Catherine sighed. 'Fine. Whatever. I don't need to know details.'

'Good.'

Catherine shot Sara a look of frustrated disbelief. She'd only been dating Grissom for five minutes and already she had adopted his tight-lipped, closed-off routine. Always up for a challenge, Catherine wasn't going to let this fact deter her from getting as many details as possible.

Catherine took a breath, ready to try again when a doctor approached the waiting CSIs.

'You can talk to Matt for a few minutes now.'

* * *

'They were crazy,' Matt was saying, his voice muffled from the painkillers and the surgical packing around his broken nose. 'The girl was wild, she scratched and punched Karen, waving her knife around and ranting about 'true love'.'

Despite being in the relative safety of his private hospital room, Matt was still visibly shaken and very scared. His eyes kept darting towards the door as if he expected the murderous pair to burst in and finish him off.

A flash of fear suddenly passed across his face. He tried to still up, but the drugs and his injuries made him sink back into his pillows with a groan. But the urgency in his eyes never diminished. 'Karen! Where is she? Is she okay?'

'She's fine,' Sara reassured him. 'The doctors are with her and she's going to pull through.'

With a sigh of relief, Matt lay back and closed his eyes, the weight of his fear dispelling temporarily.

'Is there anything you can tell us, Matt?' Catherine asked him. 'Anything at all that can help us catch your attackers. Their car, maybe?'

Matt thought for a moment, trying to focus his pain and drug-hazed mind. There was something… Something he had told himself to remember. To tell the police…

'The car,' he said, the information finally coming to him. 'Dark colour. Dark blue or… black, maybe? A Jetta.'

Sara and Catherine exchanged a hopeful glance. 'Did you see the plate number, Matt?' Sara asked him.

'I can't remember it all…' he said, angry with himself. 'I saw it as they drove away… 9, 3, 6, M… T… I can't remember the last letter… I'm sorry.'

'No, that's great, Matt,' Sara told him with a reassuring smile. 'You did great.'

* * *

Warrick frowned at the computer as it took it's time coming up with a response. He had fed the tread mark that he lifted from the scene into the computer, and now the seconds ticked by slowly while the database compared it with everything on record.

Greg had called a quick 'hello' to him five minutes before, as he arrived with the evidence collected from Catherine at the hospital. Ever the scientist, Warrick knew that Greg would be doing double-time helping Mia to process the evidence, to ensure they had an answer ASAP. Everyone was working flat out to come up with something. But Warrick couldn't help but feel a little pessimistic. No matter what came of the evidence in the lab, nothing was going to tell them where their suspects were right then and there, which was the only information that mattered tonight.

They might, at this very second, be torturing and killing their next victims. The very thought sent a wave of cold nausea through Warrick's stomach.

A beeping and whirring sound of the computer's printer springing to life brought Warrick out of his reverie. He just had to hope that the computer was providing him with a lead and not another dead-end.

* * *

Catherine and Sara practically ran out of the hospital as Sara flicked open her cellular phone and hit speed-dial. Her quarry answered almost immediately.

'Brass? It's Sara. Need you to run something through DMV for me,' she said urgently as she reached her vehicle and unlocked the door. Catherine was climbing into her own Tahoe nearby. 'We've just spoken to our victim, and he has a partial plate number for us. 9-3-6-Mike-Tango. The vic didn't get the last letter… Yeah, we're heading back to the lab now. Let me know if you get something…'

She hung up and started the car, pulling out of the car park behind Catherine and following her back to the lab. As she did so, she said a silent prayer that this was the break they had been waiting for.

* * *

'Treads come back to a Volkswagen Jetta,' Warrick told Grissom. 'So it's either completely unrelated or the suspects have changed cars.'

'Those treads were fresh,' Grissom reasoned. 'There's a good chance they were from the suspect's car.'

'Let's hope so. They're the only lead we've got right now.'

'Oh ye of little faith,' Catherine said as she and Sara entered the lab. 'We got a plate number. Brass is running it as we speak.'

'It didn't happen to be from a Jetta, did it?' Warrick asked hopefully.

Sara smiled. 'A black or dark blue Jetta.'

'Yes!'

Just then Sara's phone rang. 'Sidle… Jim… You did? That's great… Yeah. Will do… Thanks.'

She looked at the others. 'We got a name and address for the owner of the car. Brass wants us to meet him there.'

* * *

The apartment was rented by J.D. Murray, 25. Several squad cars had already surrounded the apartment building by the time Grissom, Sara, Catherine and Warrick arrived. They had no sooner parked than Jim Brass pulled up behind them and hopped out of his unmarked car, brandishing a search warrant. Although itching to get started on the scene, the CSIs held back while Brass and his team secured the apartment.

'All clear,' Brass called down to them after a few minutes. 'We must have missed them.'

'Damn it!' Sara murmured so that only Grissom could hear her. Her tone was tight and angry. 'They're probably out grabbing another couple right now!'

'Sara, this is the best lead we've got,' Grissom told her in the calm, firm tone she hated him using on her. When he directed it her way, it usually meant _'Calm down. No emotions at the crime scene.'_

The interior of the apartment was simple and stark, neither clean nor tidy. The only homey touches to the living room were dozens of framed photographs, all of a smiling couple, staring lustfully at one another. Lana Tyler and J.D Murray.

While Catherine and Warrick started processing the living room, Sara moved towards the lone bedroom. The bed looked like a tornado had hit, and the room smelled of recent sexual activity. Sara was about to bag the sheets for DNA comparison when a stack of papers and what looked like a diary caught her attention on the bedside table.

Flipping the diary open, she discovered the scratchy, spider-like writing of Lana Tyler, rhapsodising at length on the subjects of murder and mayhem. Sara was stunned to find in depth details of each of the murders they were investigating, as well as several more that they didn't yet know about.

More startling still was a sheet of paper that lay under the diary. Written in a different hand, which Sara suspected was that of J.D, was a list of names, credit card details and addresses, along with descriptions of significant others and movie preferences. Several of the names had been crossed off the list in red ink. Suddenly, everything was sliding into place, and Sara couldn't believe they hadn't thought of it before.

'What have you got?' Grissom's voice startled Sara, and she jumped and let a small yelp out involuntarily.

'Jeez, Gris, don't sneak up on a person at a crime scene,' she said, turning towards him breathless and shaken by more than just his sudden appearance.

'Sorry. What did you find?'

'The killings weren't random,' Sara told him. 'I can't believe we didn't realise it before. They had a list…'

Sara's voice brought Warrick and Catherine to the door of the bedroom.

'Find something?'

'They have a list, with all our victims on it, plus a few more beside. Descriptions of their girlfriends or boyfriends, cars, addresses, credit card numbers, even the types of movies they like to watch…'

Catherine shook her head at their mistake. 'And we thought they just picked kids at random at the movies.'

Warrick's attention was on the dresser top. Walking swiftly to it, he picked up something with his gloved hand and examined it. 'They did pick up kids at random at the movies,' he told them, holding up a name badge for them to see. 'J.D. worked at the Playhouse. Box Office.'

'_That's_ how he got names and addresses,' Sara realised. 'Taking ticket bookings…'

'I'll let Brass know,' Warrick said. 'He'll want to talk to the manager of the Playhouse.'

As he left the room, an idea dawned on Sara. 'The couple that escaped tonight. Matt and Karen? They're on this list.'

'Well, that makes sense if they gathering information on their victims are in advance,' Grissom reasoned.

'Yeah, but they failed tonight,' Sara said. 'Matt and Karen got away. If they're escalating the way we suspect, makes sense they'll go after another couple on their list…'

Grissom and Catherine's eyes widened as Sara's point hit home.

'How many more names on that list?' Catherine asked, taking her cell phone out of her pocket.

Sara checked. 'Eight.'

'We'd better start calling then,' Grissom said.

Five minutes later, Catherine was finishing up her last call as Sara hung up her cell. Each of the numbers she had called turned up nothing. One couple was having a quiet dinner at home. Another had gone to Lake Tahoe for a few days. Grissom shook his head to indicate that he'd had as little luck as she.

The urgency in Catherine's voice made them both turn to watch her. 'Are you sure that's where they've gone? ... What time? … Can you give me a description of the car they took? …' Catherine paused as she jotted something down. 'No… ma'am, I'm sure everything's fine. But just in case, can you call your son's cell phone? Sure… okay, you have my number. Can you call me back when you've…? Great… Thank you.'

The look on her face as she hung up said it all. Brass and Warrick entered the room as she filled them in. 'Darren McKenzie and Lucy Bell. Dinner followed by a movie at the Playhouse. Apparently they go there all the time…'

'I'm heading back there now,' Brass said. 'Have you got this couple's car details?'

'Here you go.' Catherine handed him the slip of paper.

'Meanwhile, I'm calling in some favours with the local media,' the Captain informed them. 'In half an hour, I plan to have our two suspects' pictures, along with their car details, spread all over the TV news. I'll issue a BOLO on this new couple's car as soon as we confirm they're missing.'

As if on cue, Catherine's cell phone rang. 'Willows… Mrs McKenzie… He's not answering? ... Okay. Don't worry… We're looking into it now… I'll let you know as soon as we have anything…'

She disconnected again and looked at Brass. 'There's your confirmation. Movie let out over an hour ago and Darren's not answering his phone. Put that BOLO out.'

Brass nodded. 'Will do. It's time to tighten the net people. I don't want our suspects to be able to make a move tonight without us knowing about it.'

TBC.


	10. Mind of a Killer

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

Chapter Ten – Mind of a Killer

'He seemed totally normal, man,' Josh Phelps, the night supervisor of the Playhouse, told Brass and Warrick.

'That's what people said about Jeffrey Dalmer and Ted Bundy,' Warrick said seriously.

Phelps looked confused. 'That guy outta 'Married With Children'?'

Warrick glanced and Brass and rolled his eyes.

'So, when did you last see J.D.?' Brass got down to business.

'Earlier tonight,' Phelps replied. 'He got off around 9. His girlfriend came in and they said something about having 'special plans' for Valentines.'

'I bet they did,' Brass remarked dryly. 'How long has he worked here?'

'I don't know… a year. Year and a half, maybe…'

Warrick took over. 'And he would have had access to customer records in his job? Credit card details, addresses, that sort of thing?'

'Well, if they're regulars, yeah sure. Anyone who comes here all the time usually takes out a membership and pays with their credit card. We keep all their info on file…' Phelps suddenly looked worried. 'This isn't going to be in the papers is it? My boss'll kill me if someone on my shift makes the complex look bad.'

'You know what they say,' Brass told him. 'There's no such thing as bad publicity.'

* * *

_People are such idiots. They don't understand what's going on in front of them. Life. It's intense. If it's not, then what's the point? If you don't live life on the edge, feel fear and passion and love and hate to their fullest extent, then you're not alive. And if you're not alive, then you're better off dead. Aren't you…?_

_These idiots don't know what real love or real passion is. They don't understand. So we teach them. Give them a choice. Would you die for the person you supposedly love? If death would be the only way to ensure your lovers release, would you make that choice? Would you say 'Yes, kill me. Let her go.' That's all they would have to do to live…_

_But they don't. None of them. No one is ready to die for love. Liars. All of them. It's not love. It's lust. Sex. Not what I have with J.D. That's real. I'd die for him. He would die for me. We would kill for each other. That's real. That's love._

_It used to be only sex – sweaty and scared in the dark. Caged, a prisoner, unable to break free. No one ever loved me before I met J.D. I was so alone. I could never go back to that. I'd rather cut my own heart out than be without him. _

As Sara's eyes traced the scratchy path of Lana's writing, she was frightened by the lucidity of the girl's words. Despite the sentiment behind the words, Lana was obviously intelligent, which was probably the reason she evaded the police for so long.

Sara was also a little disturbed by the fact that some of Lana's words made sense to her. Life did tend to go by unnoticed by many, herself included, and she was only now stopping to wonder what the point of it all was. If she didn't allow herself to live life fully, was she really alive at all?

'Great, Sara,' she chided herself. 'Taking life guidance from a psychotic murderer. Just what you need…'

'Did you say something?' Grissom asked as he entered the room, making Sara jump for the second time in the one evening.

'What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?' she chastised him with a grin.

'You said not to do it at a crime scene. You said nothing about at the labs,' he teased her. 'What are you reading?'

'Lana's journal,' Sara replied, her grin immediately replaced with a look of disgust. 'Scintillating reading. Everything you need for a best seller – love, sex, violence. Even a catchy philosophy – '_death equals love, love equals death_'.'

Grissom nodded. 'Great wits are sure to madness near allied, and thin partitions do their bounds divide.'

Sara arched an eyebrow at him. 'You really have a quote for every occasion, don't you?'

'I was thinking of having a book published,' was his dead-pan reply. 'Details of all the murders in there?'

Sara nodded. 'Dates, locations, names, detailed descriptions of what was done to each victim. It's… disturbing. Listen to this: '_The fools don't know what their hearts are for, so we'll take them and add them to our own, making our love stronger…'_ How does a girl get to be so twisted? She's only a teenager…'

'I never cease to be amazed and disturbed by the capacity for violence that some individuals display,' Grissom said. 'The only thing more disturbing is that fact that, some day, a worse case will present itself.'

Sara sighed and glanced back at the diary lying on the table in front of her. _Worse than this? Worse than a young girl, corrupted by such evil that she killed and mutilated indiscriminately? _Sara hoped, deep in her soul, that she would never come across anything worse than this.

'Anyway, I came looking for you for a purpose,' Grissom's voice broke into her thoughts. 'Catherine and Nick are interviewing Lana Tyler's mother.'

* * *

'She wouldn't do such a thing!' Beth Tyler insisted, barely holding back the deluge of tears. 'My Lana's only a child!'

'A child you haven't seen in 18 months, Mrs Tyler,' Catherine replied evenly. 'I'm afraid we have a great deal of evidence against your daughter.'

Mrs. Tyler shook her head as if to clear it of the accusation. _Her daughter. A killer? It couldn't be._

Nick leaned forward, gazing at the woman before him with eyes full of sympathy. Sara watched him through the one-way glass of the interview room, using the technique he had used countless times when interviewing victim's families, knowing full well that it was not a technique at all. Nick genuinely did feel sympathy and even empathy for many of the families they came across everyday.

'Mrs. Tyler? Is there anything, anything at all that you can tell us about your daughter that might help us find her?' he asked gently.

The woman looked at him incredulously. 'Do you think if I knew where she was I wouldn't have brought her home by now? She's been gone for 18 months!'

Nick tried again. 'Can you tell us about Lana? About her childhood? Something that might explain why…?'

'Why?' Beth Tyler's voice came out high and unnatural. 'Why my daughter left home? Why she started hurting people? Killing people, if what you say is true? What could I tell you that would explain _that_?'

'Did Lana have any problems at school?' Catherine took up the questioning again. 'Bullying?' Mrs. Tyler shook her head but remained silent. 'How about her relationship with you?' Again the woman said nothing. 'Her father?'

_Bingo_. Beth Tyler's head shot up, and when her eyes met Catherine's the CSI saw fear there.

'She didn't have a good a relationship with her Dad?' Catherine suggested.

'He… he's not around anymore,' Beth told her quietly. 'We… we broke up. A little while before Lana ran away.'

'Why was that, Mrs. Tyler?' Nick asked gently.

'He…Lana said… he…' she couldn't bring herself to utter the words. But both Catherine and Nick knew. They had worked hundreds of cases like this.

'Did your husband abuse your daughter, Mrs. Tyler?' Catherine pressed her.

'I didn't believe her. She first told me when she was 15. I thought she was going through a difficult stage… just fighting with her Dad and trying to get back at him.' The tears she had held off for so long finally began to flow down her face. 'When I told her… I didn't believe her, she… she went to school and trashed her classroom. Attacked a teacher and a fellow student.'

'What happened then?'

'She was placed in care,' Beth replied. 'She told social services that the reason for her violent outburst was that her father had… abused her. So they took her into care while they investigated. The school decided not to press charges… Then, I found Lana's diary and it was so… _detailed_. I knew I'd been wrong…' her words came out as sobs now. 'I knew he'd… I kicked him out, and they eventually let Lana come home. But she had changed.'

'How?' Nick asked.

'She was so cold. Hard,' Beth closed her eyes against the emotions welling out of her. 'She said she hated me. Hated her father. Said we'd never shown her real love. She said she'd have to go looking for it. Said we 'caged' her… I don't know what she meant by that… Not long afterwards, she ran away…'

At the other side of the glass, Sara closed her eyes against the tears in her own eyes. She prayed that Grissom wouldn't notice how the woman's story had affected her. Now she understood the pain, the confusion, the anger in Lana's diary. She hadn't felt like her parents had ever really loved her. She'd been a child of the system, even if only for a short time. She'd been abused. The story conjured up images of Sara's own past that she'd rather not deal with. Things she had shared with almost no one.

But it also gave her a frightening perspective on how things might play out, should Lana be cornered. The girl was desperate. And desperate people did desperate things in certain situations.

* * *

Brass and Warrick were half-way back to the station when the scanner crackled urgently into life.

'_All units. All units. Unit in pursuit of suspect car - 9-3-6-Mike-Tango-Echo, on Highway 14, two miles north of Vegas. Two suspects are wanted in connection with multiple murders. They should be considered armed and dangerous. Hostages in car. Repeat, two hostages in car. Approach with extreme caution.'_

Without pause, Brass spun the car around and sped off the way he had just come.

* * *

'Sara, wait!' Grissom called out to the speeding brunette as she raced down the corridor towards the exit.

'Hurry up, Grissom!' she urged him without breaking stride.

'Sara, they haven't even secured the scene yet,' he insisted, rushing out the front door of the building behind her. 'There isn't even a scene _to_ secure yet. It's still driving through the Nevada desert.'

Sara had already reached the Tahoe and was unlocking the door, glaring at him to hurry up. 'Yeah, well it'd be good to be nearby, when they _do _secure the scene,' she replied, climbing into the driver's seat.

Grissom climbed into the passenger' seat and sighed. Before Sara could back out of the parking space, he placed his hand on hers. 'Sara,' his voice was like a soothing caress, but Sara refused to be soothed.

Sitting back in her seat, she closed her eyes and let out a long, angry breath.

'You have to trust that the Police will get those kids out of the car unharmed,' Grissom told her in the same, soothing voice. 'It's not our job to charge in and save the day.'

'No. We're just the clean-up crew,' she said bitterly, not opening her eyes.

'That's not all we do, and you know it. Thanks to the work we've done, we have enough evidence to put our killers behind bars for the rest of their natural lives. Work that _you've_ done.'

'Too little too late, Grissom,' she replied sadly, pulling out of the lot. 'Too little too late…'

'Hey,' he said softly. When she didn't look at him, he tried again. 'Hey?'

She quickly glanced in his direction and then back to the road.

'You're not getting defeatist on me, are you?' he prodded her gently. He couldn't fathom where this sudden wave of negativity had come from.

'It's just…' she paused, searching for the words. 'I read her diary. Cover to cover. Her words… I don't know how to explain it but… I have a bad feeling about all of this. Like… someone else will die before this is over.'

* * *

Brass could see the flashing lights and chaos on the road up ahead. The high speed car chase had been going on for miles, when a patrol car swerved off an access road and into the path of the suspects' speeding Jetta. In his attempt to avoid the cop car, J.D. had overcorrected and crashed his car into a ditch at the side of the road.

As Brass pulled up, he could see several officers, guns drawn, surrounding the car at a safe distance. The reason for the distance became clear as he walked closer to the scene. J.D. was staggering from the car, displaying all the signs of broken ribs, but still aiming his pistol at Darren McKenzie. Lana, with blood oozing from a wound to her temple, had Darren's girlfriend, Lucy, by the throat, pressing the blade of her alarmingly large knife into the girl's flesh.

'Don't come any closer!' she screamed, her eyes wild with rage and with panic. 'Don't come any fucking closer! I'll cut her head off I swear!'

* * *

Grissom had never seen Sara drive so fast. He was used to Warrick's somewhat creative driving style, but Sara had always struck him as an unusually cautious driver. However, on this occasion, she drove as though the devil himself were after her.

'Sara, slow down.'

'We're nearly there,' was all she would say.

TBC.


	11. Little Girl Lost

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

**Rating – **This chapter comes with a strong PG-13 rating, for language.

Chapter Eleven – Little Girl Lost

Warrick had never been as terrified for the safety of another human being as he was at that moment. Holding her victim directly in front of herself so that police snipers had no clear shot, Lana had dragged the girl to the far side of the overturned car. She was unhinged, cornered with no escape plan. Warrick couldn't think of anything more dangerous.

J.D. on the other hand seemed to become more lethargic by the minute. He was obviously in a lot of pain from the cracked ribs and whatever other injuries he had suffered in the crash. His gun-holding arm was getting more unsteady by the moment but he, like Lana, had moved his hostage to the far side of the car, still aiming his gun at the young man's chest.

'We want another car!' Lana screamed for the third time. 'We wanna get out of here with no one following us. Then we'll let them go.'

'Can't do that, Lana,' Brass responded. 'Let's be reasonable about this. Let them go, then we'll talk.'

'Go fuck yourself, Pig!' she screamed back at him. 'I let them go, I got nothing. You do what I say or they die.'

'Then you really will have nothing, Lana,' Brass told her. 'You kill them right here, right now? You're looking at the death penalty. Let them go, I'll talk to the judge for you.'

'And get us what?' she yelled back. 'A life sentence instead? Go to hell!'

'Lana?' J.D. sounded scared. Brass couldn't tell if it was because of the treat of the death penalty or because he was terrified of his girlfriend.

'Shut up, J.D! I'm handling this.'

'Baby? I'm hurt,' he said, in an almost whiny voice. 'We should just let them go.'

The look she gave her lover would have sent the bravest man cowering. 'You said you loved me!'

'I do.'

'You said you'd do anything for me!'

'I would. But…'

'There should be no fucking buts!' she screamed. 'You give yourself up now and I'll kill you myself!'

J.D. stopped talking.

'J.D.? You need medical attention,' Brass said. 'I promise I'll have the two of you looked after if you give this up now. You have my word.'

'Don't you fucking listen to him, J.D!'

* * *

Sara screeched to a halt directly behind Brass's car. Before Grissom could even unbuckle his seat belt, she was out of the car and running towards the police.

'Sara! Wait!'

Warrick caught her in his arms before she could go any further.

'Sara? What the hell do you think you're doing?' he asked her, shocked at her behaviour. 'You can't go over there. The police are handling it.'

Still Sara fought to shake off Warrick's grip. 'I'm the only one who read her diary, Warrick,' she insisted. 'I know what she's capable of. She's going to…'

Grissom had finally caught up, and Warrick relinquished his grip on Sara as Grissom took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.

'Sara? What the hell's going on?' he asked firmly. 'You can't just go charging into a police stand-off like that.'

'I need to talk to her,' she insisted. 'I'll stay back. I promise.' Shrugging him off before he could reply, she moved over to where Brass was standing.

The police captain looked at her with confusion. 'Sara? You guys need to stay back until this is resolved.'

Sara didn't move. 'Let me talk to her. Please.'

'Sara, you're not trained.'

'Please.'

Brass took in the look of resolve on Sara's face and let out a long breath. 'I'm sorry kid. I know you want to help, but…'

Sara nodded and turned towards the horrific scene that was unfolding before her. She could see the look of terror on the two victims' faces. A thin ribbon of blood trickled down the girl's neck as the knife dug into her skin. Her eyes pleaded to anyone, everyone, for help. And Sara knew she couldn't stand there and do nothing. Training be damned.

'Lana?' Sara called out, her mouth dry with fear. 'Can we talk?'

'Sara,' Brass hissed at her. 'What are you doing?'

'Who are you? Another cop?' Lana answered back, squinting up at the newcomer.

'No. No, I'm not a cop,' Sara told her, ignoring Brass completely. 'My name is Sara. I'm from the Crime Lab. I'm a criminalist.'

'Sara…' Brass hissed again. Still she wouldn't look at him. He knew better than to cause a scene with her in the middle of a hostage situation. Any sign of weakness among the cops would do nothing other than worsen the situation with Lana and J.D. Helplessly, he turned to look at Grissom, who was regarding Sara, wide-eyed and fearful.

Lana was incredulous. 'What the hell do I have to say to a _criminalist_? You going to get me out of here any faster?'

Brass cut a glance at Sara again. 'Don't make this worse. Please,' he murmured to her. Finally acknowledging him, she answered with the tiniest of nods.

'I hope so, Lana. That's what we all want. To get you all out of this situation.' Sara was putting all her effort into keeping her voice soothing. Calming. To avoid stressing Lana any further. 'Lana, I was at your apartment earlier. I saw your diary.'

Incredulity turned to fury. 'You had no right!'

'I know it was personal, Lana. And I'm sorry. But when a crime's been committed, sometimes we have to look through people's personal things.'

'So I guess you think you _know _me now, right?' Lana called out to Sara, sarcasm dripping from her words. 'You _understand _me now, right!'

Sara shook her head. 'I would never be so conceited to say that, Lana,' she replied. 'But it did open my eyes to what you've gone through in your life. It made me want to talk to you. To try and help.'

Lana laughed. A hard, bitter, mirthless laugh that made Sara's blood run cold. 'So, what, _Sara? _You wanna be _friends _with me?'

'Lana, I know you've suffered,' Sara tried again. 'I know what you went through in care. How lost you felt. How alone. I know you felt 'caged' when you were there.'

'I felt caged my whole damn life, lady,' Lana spat back. 'Until this last year or so. With J.D. Now, I'm free.'

'You're not free, Lana,' Sara replied. 'You won't be until you let go of your past.'

'You don't know _shit_ about my past!' Lana yelled. 'You probably grew up with a silver spoon. Two parents. Happy families. All that shit. You don't know anything about my life! You didn't live it!'

'My life was far from perfect, Lana,' Sara told her. 'I spent time in care, too. I know how lonely it gets. How unwanted it can make you feel. How you'll look for anything, anyone to make you feel like you belong.'

'You don't know shit, lady,' Lana repeated.

'I know how this is going to go down if you don't let those two kids go,' Sara told her. 'It'll be the death penalty, Lana. You're barely 18. There doesn't need to be anymore death.'

Behind her, Grissom's eyes bored into Sara's back. _Sara in care?_ She had never said anything. His mind ran through every conversation they had conducted about their pasts and realised that, besides her academic career, he didn't know a damn thing about her before she came to Las Vegas. Hell, he barely knew anything about her personal life _since_ she moved here. That thought made him inexplicably sad, as though he had failed her in some way.

Movement by the overturned car snapped his attention to the here and now. J.D. was looking increasingly unsteady on his feet, and had lurched forward, steadying himself on his car only just in time to keep from falling down.

'Lana? I think I'm hurt bad,' he told his lover.

She tore her angry eyes away from Sara and looked at him. 'You'll be okay, baby. You'll be okay.'

'No. I won't,' he insisted. '_We _won't. You heard what she said. What that cop said. We'll get the death penalty if we don't give it up now.'

'We're not giving up, J.D!' she yelled at him, like an angry mother berating her child. 'I'm not going to prison. They can kill me if they want to. I don't care. We can die together. But they're not gonna lock me up!'

'Lana, please baby.'

'No, J.D. It'll be… romantic,' she told him, wide-eyed and almost wistful as she looked at him. 'We'll die together. Then we'll be together. Forever.'

'Lana, listen to him!' Sara called, willing the girl out of her fantasy world. Lana paid her no mind.

'Lana, I can't do this anymore!' J.D. yelled at her. He flung his gun out from behind the car. 'I'm giving myself up. You can do whatever the hell you want.'

'Don't you fucking dare, J.D!' she screamed back, tightening her hold on the girl. 'You said you'd do anything for me!'

All of the police bristled, the aims of the police marksmen sharpening, reading themselves to take Lana down before she could slit the throat of her captive.

'You stupid little bitch!' J.D. spat back. 'This isn't one of your dumb movies. I'm not going to _die_ for you!'

He put his hands above his head, signalling to the cops that he was ready to come quietly. Lana, however, was not.

'NO!' she screamed as if her entire world had just imploded. The police held their ground, not going in for J.D. in case that provoked Lana further.

An icy finger of terror ran through Sara as she recalled Lana's diary. She had wanted her victims to be willing to die for their lovers. She believed that was the proof of true love. J.D.'s words were bound to have serious implications on the girl's already fragmented psyche. This stand-off was only going to end badly.

'Lana!' she called out, her voice crackling with fear.

The girl stood there and, for a split second, Sara saw the lost and frighten child beneath the murderer she had become. Then it was gone, and Lana looked completely detached from this world.

Almost in slow motion, she grabbed the girl she held closer to herself, the blade of her knife biting further into her neck.

'NO!' Sara yelled.

With all her might, Lana shoved Lucy Bell away from her. The girl collapsed in the desert sand, sobbing with fear. Lana raised the knife.

Without thinking, Sara dashed forward, avoiding Brass's grasping hands. At full speed, she ran for Lana. She thought she called out. She wasn't sure.

Lana turned the blade of the butcher's knife towards herself, and buried in her chest right up to the hilt.

Right through her heart.

Sara couldn't be sure, but she thought there were tears in her eyes as she caught Lana's collapsing body and lowered her to the ground. She placed her hand round the knife, uselessly trying to stem the flow of blood. It was already too late.

She looked into Lana's dead eyes and wept. For all the teenagers left dead by Lana's hand. For their families who would now be denied justice. For the loss of innocence that this child had suffered too soon in life. For the fact that she was powerless to stop any of it.

It wasn't her job to save the day. She was just the clean-up crew.

TBC.


	12. Down Sides and Upshots

**Disclaimer/Author's Note – **See Chapter One.

Chapter Twelve – Down Sides & Upshots

The following night, Sara sat in the break room staring blankly into her cup of tea. In her mind, she replayed the previous night's drama out, pointlessly trying to figure out what she could have done differently.

Rationally, she knew that there _was_ nothing she could have done. Lana had been set on her path of destruction long before Sara had even heard her name.

Was it nurture or nature that determined Lana's destiny? Would she have grown up to be a law-abiding, useful member of society had she been raised by two loving parents rather than a father who molested her and a mother who had stood by and let him? What made one product of a violent home become a murderer, while another became a member of law enforcement?

Sara had always claimed to be a believer in the somewhat comfortable notion that some people were just born evil, that ordinary people could not possibly commit such heinous crimes. At the same time, she knew she was just lying to herself. She knew all too well what 'normal' people could be driven to.

Still, Sara sought to convince herself that she could never take the life of another human being, no matter the situation. She remembered her outrage at the killing of a man on an aeroplane, the year she moved to Vegas. More to the point, her outrage at the conversation that had followed the case. Both Warrick and Catherine had claimed, if their lives were in danger (or in Catherine's case, the life of her daughter) they would be prepared to kill. Nick had been unable to answer the question. Sara had been disgusted at the time, insisting _'I don't care what you say. I could never take a life.'_

It wasn't until later, when she had gotten home, that she questioned why she had argued so passionately. It was as if she were attempting to dissuade her mind from the other possibility that lurked in the darkness. The so-called 'murder gene'. If genetics determined everything, then maybe the choice had already been taken out of her hands.

She was pondering this again when the sound of a throat clearing drew her attention. She looked up to see Greg standing in the doorway.

'Hey,' he said with a small smile that was an unsuccessful attempt to disguise his concern for her.

'Hey.'

'So, uh… you okay?' he asked.

Sara opened her mouth to say_ 'fine'_ and promptly swallowed the falsehood. She wasn't 'fine'. Resolute, she forced her mouth into a smile. 'I'll be okay.'

'Uh… Catherine wants to talk to you,' Greg surprised her by saying. 'She's in Grissom's office.'

* * *

Catherine and Grissom were in the midst of an intense conversation when Sara arrived outside the office. Grissom looked worried and unhappy at whatever they were discussing. He also looked tired and by the look of the dark circles beneath his eyes, he hadn't slept a wink since she had saw him last.

Sara felt a pang of guilt. He'd probably been up worrying about her. She had refused his offer of company after last night's events. When he had driven her home, she'd barely looked at him when saying 'goodbye'. She had been afraid of what he might see in her eyes.

They still hadn't noticed her standing by the door so she took a deep breath and stepped into Grissom's inner sanctum. Two pairs of eyes were on her immediately.

'You wanted to see me?'

Catherine granted her a small smile, but Sara noticed that Grissom looked…nervous. That didn't bode well.

'Sara. Have a seat,' Catherine invited her as if it were her own office.

Sitting down, Sara looked back and forth between the two, her own nervousness building.

'Uh… What's this about?'

Catherine, never one to duck out of a confrontation, seemed to start by doing just that. 'Darren and Lucy are doing just fine. Darren's been released from hospital and Lucy should be out tomorrow. The cuts to her neck were shallow.'

Sara knew this wasn't what she'd been called into this meeting to discuss, but she decided to play along for the moment. 'That's good. What about Matt and Karen?' she asked, recalling the couple that had been kidnapped just before Darren and Lucy and who had also escaped.

'They're out of the woods. Karen's injuries are still pretty serious. She'll be in hospital a little while yet. But they're alive.'

Sara had nothing to say to that. Sure. They were alive. But a hell of a lot of other teenagers weren't after crossing paths with Lana and J.D.

'J.D. has pleaded guilty. The DA has decided to try for the death penalty, but he thinks it may end up going to 'life without parole'.'

'Catherine? Why am I really here? You could have told me all this with the others at tonight's briefing.' Sara's nerves were frayed to breaking point and she was no longer willing to play this game.

Catherine looked at Grissom for help. Taking a deep breath, he looked Sara right in the eyes. 'Sara, you did really good work on this case. If it weren't for you, we may not have broken it as soon as we did.'

'We didn't break it soon enough,' Sara replied.

'I'm worried about you Sara. You got in too deep to this case. Took it too… personally,' he went on. 'And I feel…' He stopped, trying to distance himself. Be 'Grissom the boss' rather than whatever he and Sara currently were. He couldn't do it.

Catherine rescued him by taking over. '_We_ feel that you've been under a tremendous stress lately. I don't think you gave yourself enough time to get over what happened with Jill and it's now taking a toll on your work.'

Sara looked at her, incredulous. 'Grissom just got finished telling me what good work I did, and now you're telling me my work's suffering?'

'You could have gotten yourself killed last night, Sara!' Catherine told her, her emotions breaking through the calm exterior she was presenting. 'You pushed yourself into a situation you weren't trained to handle and it could have blown up in your face. I'm with Grissom on this. _I'm _worried about you.'

'You needn't be…' Sara started, but Catherine cut her off.

'Sorry, Sara, but it's my _job _to worry about you now. I'm now directly in charge of your supervision and I think you need to take some time off to get over everything that's happened.'

Sara couldn't believe her ears. 'You're _forcing _me to take leave.'

'Holiday time,' Catherine corrected her. 'You've got a ridiculous amount of time built up on the books. Use it. _Please_. Take a week. Preferable two, and wind down. Okay?'

'Catherine, I don't want to take a holiday. I _want _to work.'

'Well, I'm sorry Sara, but you don't really have a choice in the matter.' At Sara's mutinous expression, Catherine decided to elaborate. 'Cavallo and Ecklie caught wind of last night's events. We managed to convince Cavallo that it was stress related and he agreed that if you took some time off, the matter wouldn't be taken any further. But Ecklie…'

'What about Ecklie?' Sara asked Catherine, her distaste for the soon to be director of the lab ill-concealed.

It was Grissom, however, that replied. 'Ecklie made it clear that, had this happened next week after his promotion had taken effect, you'd be looking at a suspension at the very least.'

'Oh,' was the only word Sara could form.

* * *

She had gone home, not even staying for that one shift. She had what was her third shower of the day and lay on the couch, at a complete loss as to what to do now. She was unaccustomed to free time, preferring to fill her life with work and keep busy. Always busy. Leaving no time to think.

Thinking was left to the hours she would spend in bed, staring at the ceiling, willing sleep to take her to oblivion. It was rare that she would ever get any more than four hours sleep. She kept her mind buzzing with thoughts of work, attempting to evade the other memories that lurked in the deep recesses of her mind. So, instead of waking up in a cold sweat, shaking and shivering under her blankets at the memory of her fractured childhood, she woke up that same way with the memory of the Kay Sheltons and the Pamela Adlers of this world. It wasn't any better. Not really. But it was how she coped.

She woke up hours later, having not even realised that she had fallen asleep; her dreams merely a continuation of her waking thoughts. At first she wasn't sure what had wakened her, but then someone wrapped gently on her door for a second time.

She opened it just as Grissom was turning to go. He turned back to face her with a warm smile, two steaming take-out cups and a bag of bagels.

'Hey. I was starting to think you were sleeping.'

She smiled at him. 'Me? Sleeping? Nah.'

He held up the bag. 'I brought breakfast. If you're interested?'

She smiled again and nodded. 'I can see that.' Stepping back from the doorway, she allowed him to step past her into the apartment.

He paused as he drew level with her, and dropped a kiss on her forehead. 'How are you doing?'

Sara sighed. 'I'd be better if people would stop treating me like I was dying or something. I'm _fine_.'

Grissom sat the bag of bagels and the drinks down on the breakfast bar and turned to face her once more. 'Sara, we're just worried about you. _I'm _worried about you. You took around 15 years off my life last night.'

Despite herself, Sara grinned. 'That's not good. Not at _your_ age.'

Grissom arched an eyebrow at her. 'Good to see you got your sense of humour back. And nice try at changing the subject.'

Sara went to him then and put her arms around his neck. 'I'm sorry I made you worried. And I promise to help put some years back on you again.' She grinned, her implication clear.

Grissom placed a kiss on the tip of her nose and smiled back. 'Okay, I take it back. That wasn't just a nice try. It's an excellent and pretty persuasive attempt at subject changing.' He stooped a little and captured her mouth with his, keeping the kiss light and tender.

Pulling away after a moment, his face had lost all its mirth. 'But I'm afraid we need to stay on topic for the moment.'

With a frustrated sigh, Sara pulled away and moved to the couch, sitting down and giving him a petulant look. 'Gris, I _told _you. I'm _fine._'

Picking up their drinks, he sat on the couch next to her, offering a cup. 'Come on. Drink your tea and talk to me.'

They sat in silence for a moment, neither knowing what to say. Sara was struggling to put her feelings into words that wouldn't make her sound like a crazy person. Grissom was afraid to push her further, so he simple sat and waited.

Finally, she spoke. 'I over identified,' she told him, looking straight out in front of her. Relieved that she was finally talking, Grissom sat back and let her continue. 'I'm used to identifying with the victims. Kay Shelton. Pamela Adler. Suzanna Kirkwood. They're all still with me. When I close my eyes to sleep… But, Lana. The pain she inflicted. The terror. But I still… I still saw something I could identify with.'

Slowly, Grissom moved his hand to her shoulder and began to rub gently. Sara leaned back into him and he snaked his arm around her, pulling her close.

'Reading what she wrote in her journal, and hearing her mom talk about the abuse and the foster care, it just... brought up issues from my own past, I guess.'

Grissom tipped his head forward and kissed her hair, squeezing her a little tighter. When she said no more, he took a chance. 'Why didn't you tell me you were in foster care?'

Sara said nothing, but Grissom felt her stiffen in his arms. Not wanting to force her into a conversation she wasn't ready for, he waited for a moment. Still she said nothing.

'Sara…?'

'Not now, Grissom,' she said softly.

Grissom sighed. 'It just makes me feel… guilty. Like I've paid so little attention. I know so very little about your past.'

'I don't know that much about you past either,' she replied in the same quiet tone. 'It's something we can work at. Some other time.' Her tone made it clear that there would be no delving into the past this day.

'In your own time, honey,' Grissom told her, laying his cheek against her soft, dark hair. 'I just want you to know that I'm here for you. When ever you want to talk.'

She turned her head slightly and kissed his check, relishing the rough feel of his beard against her lips. This was all still so new, the feel of being so close to him. She half expected to wake up at any moment and discover it was all a dream. But the newness was also filled with possibilities, and Sara decided that now might be the perfect time to re-evaluate her priorities.

'So, I've been thinking,' she told him lightly. 'Taking time off won't be _that_ bad. I can catch up on some reading. Redecorate, maybe. And if a certain someone had time, we might manage to spend some time together…'

Grissom grinned into her hair. 'Well, what if I told you that a _certain someone_ had taken a few days off next week.'

Sara turned her head quickly to look at him, disbelief and awe mixed equally in her eyes. 'You're kidding? You, Gil Grissom, have taken time off?'

'Uh huh.'

'Who are you and what have you done with my workaholic entomologist?'

Grissom laughed. 'I've actually been very pro-active today. After Catherine and I had our meeting with Cavallo, I had one with him in private.'

The hairs on the back of Sara's neck stood on end as she sensed where this was going.

'I told him that Catherine was now your direct supervisor because you and I were, quote romantically involved, end quote.'

Sara suppressed a giggle. 'You didn't.'

'He has a letter to that effect, as do human resources,' Grissom went on, grinning like the cat that got the cream at his own personal development. Six weeks ago, the thought of doing such a thing would have had him running for the nearest bug catalogue to hide behind. 'Cavallo asks that you write a similar letter, relieving the Sheriff's Department of any liability with regards potential sexual harassment litigation. Oh, those were Cavallo's exact words, by the way.'

'You really _were_ pro-active today.'

'I figured I'd better do it before Ecklie takes over the lab next week and makes our lives a living hell,' Grissom admitted. 'So…? Is it okay with you?'

Sara turned around to look at him. 'I think I'm a little more than okay with it.'

She swung her long legs around and straddled him. Wrapping both arms round his neck, she sent butterfly kisses along his throat, making him shiver with anticipation. He groaned appreciatively.

She locked eyes with him for the briefest of moments, before touching her lips to his. Light, almost non-existent kisses tormented him before her pulled her tighter, intensifying the kiss. Her soft lips were a pleasure he had long denied himself and could not - would not do so any longer. With something akin to reverence, his tongue explored the outer reaches of her mouth, before delving further. When their tongues met, Grissom experience a feeling in the pit of his stomach he had not had in a long time.

Excitement. Exhilaration. Completion.

When Grissom's hands ran up her spine and into her hair, Sara felt like she was freefalling without a parachute. And yet, she couldn't remember the last time she felt this safe. Lightening her kisses once more, she worked her way around to Grissom's ear, loving each and every involuntary groan and shiver she caused in him.

'Sara Sidle,' he whispered huskily into her hair. 'Are you trying to seduce me?'

She leaned back and smiled wantonly at him. 'That all depends. Is it working?'

Looking deep into her chocolate eyes, he smiled. 'Most definitely.'

THE END

* * *

**A/N – **Many, many thanks to all the wonderful people who took the time to read and review this and the previous two stories in the series. Words cannot express my gratitude for your support. Much love to you all. 


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